Columbia  ©niDtriJftp 
intl)r(£itpaflIrttiPork 


THE  LIBRARIES 


BIOGRAPHICAL 


OF   EMINENT 


LAWYERS,  STATESMEN, 


A^D 


•'  Oh  !  who  shall  lightly  say  that  FAME 
Is  nothing  but  aa  empty  narae  ! 
When  mem'ry  of  the  mighty  dead. 

To  earth-worn  pilgrim's  wistful  eye 
The  brightest  rays  of  cheering  ahed. 

That  point  to  immortality." 


BY  SAMUEL  L.  KNAPP. 


BOSTON: 
PUBLISHED  BY  RICHARDSON  AND  LORD. 


JOHN  H.  A.  FROST,  PRINTER, 
Congress  Street. 

1821. 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  to  wit: 

Dhtrict  CUrTes  Office. 

BE  it  remembered,  That  on  the  twenty-pipfht  day  of  August,  A.  D.  18Q1,  and  in  the 
flirty-sixth  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  Samuel  I..  Knifpp, 
of  the  said  District,  has  deposited  in  this  office  the  Title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  i^e 
cl^kims  as  Author,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit ; 

Biographical  Sketches  of  eminent  Lawyers,  Statesmen,  and  Men  of  Letters. 

"  Oh  ;  who  shall  lightly  say  that  FAME 
Is  nothing  but  an  empty  name  ! 
When  niem'ryof  the  mighty  lead, 

To  earth-worn  pilgrim's  wistful  eye 
The  brightest  rays  of  cheering  shed. 

That  point  to  immortality." 

BY  SAMUEL  L.  KNAPP. 

In  conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  entitled,  "An  Act  for'lhe 
encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts  and  books,  to  the 
authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  ;"  and  also  to  an 
Act  entitled,  "  An  Act  supplementary  to  an  Act,  entitled,  '  An  Act  for  the  encouragement 
of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors 
of  such  copies  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  ;  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the 
arts  of  designing,  engraving  and  etching  Historical,  and  other  prints." 

JOHN  W.  DAVIS, 

Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


(:^ 


CONTENTS. 


Page, 

Preface 5 

Introduction 9 

Theophilus  Parsons     ....  :'.  . 37 

Increase  Sumner    79 

Joseph  Warren     107 

Joseph  Green 129 

John  Eliot • 138 

Cotton  Mather 139 

Francis  Knapp 140 

Mather  Byles , I43 

'-  Rev,  John  Adams 145 

Thomas  Kilby 146 

John  Osborn 146 

Benjamin  Church 148 

Joseph  Orne 149 

James  Allen     150 

John  Read I53 

Benjamin  Pratt 163 

John  Lathrop     <' 175 

Jeremiah  Gridley 199 

Samuel  Sewall , 219 

Joseph  Hovey     233 

Benjamin  West ^  .  245 


f-. 


ivt)997 


y  CONTENTS. 

Two  Elisha  Cookes * 273 

James  Sullivan 291 

Tristram  Dalton 315 

James  Otis 321 

Elkanah  Leonard     327 

Timothy  Ruggles  s, 331 

John  Sfrague 335 

Peleg  Sprague 337 

Joseph  Gushing 339 

George  Leonard 341 

Thomas  Hammond 343 

James  Washburn 346 

Michael  Hodge ......,,,» 351 


Page  305— for  October  17,  1008,  read  December  11,  1808, 


PREFACE. 


THESE  biographical   sketches  were  written   in   hours 
which  should  have  been  devoted  to  rest ;  but  I  trust  that  I 
shall  not  be  charged  with  negligence  in  collecting  materials, 
nor  with  carelessness  in  arranging  them.     I  have  stated  noth- 
ing but  what  was  received  from  unquestionable  authority.     It 
was  found  impracticable  to  follow  the  dictionary  form  in  the 
order  of  this  work,  and  I  thought  it  unnecessary  to  be  confined 
to  the  order  of  time.     My  object  has  been  to  give  in  connec- 
tion with  these  notices  of  individuals,  something  of  the  history 
of  the  manners,  habits  and  institutions  of  New  England.    How 
far  I  have  succeeded  in  the  attempt  the  reader  can  best  judge. 
The  second  volume  will,  I  have  no  doubt,  be  better  suited  to 
the  taste  of  the  public  than  the  first,  for  in  that  I  shall  more 
freely  avail  myself  of  the  labours  of  my  friends.     Sameness, 
of  course,  will  be  avoided,  and  this  is  one  great  evil  to  be 
feared  in  such  an  undertaking.     In  both  volumes  the  produc- 
tions of  others  will  be  designated  by  some  letter  as  a  signa- 
ture.    Some  persons  may  complain  that  1  have  been  more 
desirous  of  bringing  lawyers  into  my  book  than  other  men. 
This  is  true.     This  field  was  less  occupied  than  most  others, 
and  my  partialities  were  with  them.     The  authors  of  those 
excellent  works  ElioCs  Biographical   Dictionary^   and   Allen's 
American  Biographical  Dictionary^  were  clergymen,  and  knew 
more  of  political,  literary  and  ecclesiastical  characters  than  of 
lawyers.     The  labours  of  a  lawyer  have  no  variety  in  them, 


and  b»it  little  attraction.  It  is  the  every  day  business  of  life 
in  which  lawyers  are  concerned,  and  their  deeds  pass  away, 
and  are  forgotten  like  the  productions  of  the  seasons  on  which 
we  subsist,  for  however  excellent  or  abundant  they  may  be  one 
year,  they  are  hardly  remembered  the  next.  It  is  no  easy  task 
to  collect  even  a  few  materials  for  biography.  This  difficulty 
and  the  spirit  with  which  such  facts  are  to  be  treated  is  most 
forcibly  expressed  by  the  profoundest  moralist  and  ablest  de- 
lineator of  characters  of  the  last  century : — Dr.  Johnson  ob- 
serves, that  "the  necessity  of  complying  with  times,  and  of 
sparing  persons,  is  the  great  impediment  of  biography.  His- 
tory may  be  formed  from  permanent  monuments  and  records ; 
but  lives  can  only  be  written  from  personal  knowledge,  which 
is  growing  every  day  less,  and  in  a  short  time  is  lost  forever. 
What  is  known  can  seldom  be  immediately  told ;  and  when  it 
might  be  told,  it  is  no  longer  known.  The  delicate  feelings 
of  the  mind,  the  nice  discriminations  of  character,  and  the 
minute  peculiarities  of  conduct  ate  soon  obliterated  ;  and  it  is- 
surely  better  that  caprice,  obstinacy,  frolic  and  folly,  however 
they  might  delight  in  the  description,  should  be  silently  for- 
gotten, than,  that,  by  wanton  merriment  and  unseasonable  de- 
tection, a  pang  should  be  given  to  a  widow,  a  daughter,  a 
brother,  or  a  friend." 

I  have  not  only  obeyed  the  wholesome  injunction  "  nor  set 
down  aught  in  malice,"  but  my  conscience  acquits  me  of  say- 
ing any  thing  with  undue  severity.  It  may  however  be  said 
that  1  have  erred  on  the  other  side,  and  have  praised  too 
freel}'.  My  answer  is,  that  from  the  myriads  who  are  worthy 
of  notice,  I  have  selected  those  only,  as  subjects  of  remark, 
whose  merits  were  in  my  opinion  conspicuous.  Yet  I  do  not 
intend  to  be  constantly  searching  for  those  once  high  in  office 
and  extensively  known,  for  in  every  walk  in  life  there  are 


many  deserving  of  notice  and  regard  who  have  lived  in  com- 
parative obscurity.  I  shall  not  pay  exclusive  homage  to  the 
"  mighty  in  intellect — to  those  of  heavenly  mould,  who,  like 
the  giants  of  old,  are  the  offspring  of  the  gods  and  the  daughters 
of  men" — far  from  it — many  othefs  less  imposing,  whether  in 
the  professions,  in  philosophy,  poetry  or  general  literature, 
are  better  for  example  and  instruction  ;  they  are  nearer  the 
level  of  human  nature,  and  every  thing  which  is  said  of  them 
has  a  more  common  application  and  use.  Demi-gods  are  but 
few,  rising  here  and  there  through  the  long  vista  of  ages. — 
Hercules  wandered  alone  over  the  face  of  the  earth,  through 
wonders  and  perils  to  glory,  and  Alexander  had  no  successor 
who  could  continue  the  power  he  had  created  ;  but  the  good 
and  virtuous  are  not  rare  ;  they  abound  in  every  age.  The 
latter  like  the  stars  in  the  milky-way  shed  a  lustre  on  each 
other,  while  the  former  resemble  the  comets  which  have  ap- 
peared in  the  lapse  of  ages,  portentously  blazing  and  suddenly 
passing  away.  I  believe  that  it  is  not  hard  to  abuse  the  living 
and  the  dead  !  for  the  vocabulary  of  envy,  hatred,  and  malice 
are  easily  learned.  I  may  be  feeble  and  dull ;  but  it  shall 
never  be  said  of  me,  in  justice,  that  he  strove  to  hide  his 
weakness  in  rancour  and  to  shield  his  dulness  by  malignity. 
A  professional  man  finds  it  difficult  to  be  a  writer ; — he  has 
only  a  few  hours  in  a  week  that  he  can  devote  to  any  subject 
not  directly  in  his  course  of  business,  and  in  these  moments  he 
feels  the  lassitude  which  follows  too  constant  exertions.  This 
is  the  principal  reason  why  distinguished  men  in  the  profession 
of  the  law  give  the  world  so  few  works  of  any  kind ;  and  in- 
deed, what  inducement  any  one  can  have,  in  this  country,  to 
write,  on  any  subject,  can  hardly  be  conjectured  by  others,  or 
accounted  for  by  himself.  If  he  labours  for  fame,  how  often 
is  he  disappointed  ?  If  for  bread,  how  acanly  is  his  fare  ?  The 


8 


MTiter  of  American  biography  discovers  impediments  at  every 
atep,  and  is  often  placed  in  the  same  situation  of  the  inventive 
mechanic  in  the  rude  stages  of  the  arts,  who  finds  so  little  pre- 
pared at  his  hands,  that  he  is  obliged  to  waste  most  of  his  time 
in  settling  elementary  principles.  The  biographer  feels  the 
want  of  minute  histories  of  states  and  small  sections  of  coun- 
try ;  when  these  are  at  his  command  the  subject  of  a  memoir 
can  more  easily  be  traced  and  identified,  both  by  the  writer 
and  reader.  By  the  aid  of  such  works  facts  are  recollected, 
being  only  mentioned,  which,  if  not  commonly  known,  must  be 
detailed  with  the  most  painful  accuracy  to  show  their  connec- 
tion with  the  life  of  an  individual.  These  histories  will  soon 
be  supplied  for  us ;  societies  are  now  formed  and  are  every 
year  increasing  in  number,  for  antiquarian  and  historical  pur- 
poses, and  are  now,  and  will  hereafter  be  more  extensively 
employed  in  recording  passing  events  and  in  exploring  the 
history  of  early  times.  Other  aids  are  multiplying  to  diminish 
the  labour  of  the  writer  on  American  affairs.  The  great  col- 
lection of  books  relating  to  this  country  which  were  gathered 
by  the  distinguished  German  philosopher,  professor  Ebeling,  is 
now,  through  the  munificence  of  an  eminent  merchant  of  Bos- 
ton, the  Hon.  Israel  Thorndike,  at  the  University  of  Cam- 
bridge, accessible  to  the  historian.  Many  of  our  literary  insti- 
tutions are  growing  rich  by  the  donations  of  our  opulent  men, 
and  the  strict  attention  which  is  now  paid  by  the  guardians  of 
these  seminaries  to  their  financial  concerns.  When  public  in- 
stitutions are  well  endowed,  and  patronage  is  no  longer  wanted 
to  encourage  them,  the  liberality  of  the  patrons  of  letters  will 
reach  individuals  to  give  ardour  and  energy  to  the  labours  of 
authors,  but  for  these  Macenases  to  arise,  those  interested 
must  wait  patiently  unto  a  distant  day. 
Boston,  August,  1821. 


INTRODUCTION. 


OF  law  there  can  be  no  less  acknowledged, 
than  that  her  seat  is  the  bosom  of  Grod,  her  voice 
the  harmony  of  the  world ;  all  things  in  heaven 
and  earth  do  her  homage,  the  very  least  as  feeling 
her  care,  and  the  greatest  as  not  exempted  from 
her  power :  both  angels  and  men,  and  creatures  of 
what  condition  soever,  though  each  in  different 
sort  and  manner,  yet  all  with  uniform  consent, 
admiring  her  as  the  mother  of  their  peace  and 

joy. 

Hooktr's  Ecclesiastical  Polilij. 

THE  first  settlers  of  New  England  were  an 
intelligent  people,  brave,  firm,  and  ardent  lovers 
of  liberty  and  wholesome  laws.  The  pilgrims 
who  first  came  to  Plymouth  were  a  set  of  men 
perhaps  superior  to  those  who  followed  them  and 
settled  other  parts  of  the  country.  They  early 
directed  their  attention  to  the  forming  of  ordinances 
for  the   pul)lic  good,  whicli   werfe   considered  as 

2 


10  r" 

binding  as  laws.     It   is  true,  that  all  their  ordi- 
nances, political,  civil  and  religious,  bear  marks  of 
bigotry  ;   but   at  the  same  time  an   acquaintance 
with  the  principles  of  the  civil  and  common  law, 
as  well  as  much  good  sense,  is   discernible  in  all 
their  decrees  and  orders.     They  were   a  peculiar 
set  of  men ;    driven  from  the  old  world  for  con- 
scientious scruples,  they  had  sought  these  inhos- 
pitable  shores  to  indulge  their  love  of  freedom  in 
civil  and  ecclesiastical  affairs.     One  of  the  first 
ordinances,  after  their  society  was  tolerably  well 
orsanized,  was  made  to  establish  the  right  of  trial 
by  jury,  which   is  one    of  the  great  boasts  of  the 
common  law.   In  three  years  after  their  first  landing 
at  Plymouth,  the  following  ordinance  was  made, 
"It  is  ordained,  17  day  of  December,  anno  1623,  by 
this  court  then  held,  that  all  criminall  facts,  and  also 
all  matters  of  trespass  and  debts  between  man  and 
man  should  be  tried  by  the  verdict  of  twelve  honest 
men  to  be  impannelled  by  authority  in  forme  of  a 
jury  upon    their   oaths."      In    1636  fearing   that 
juries  might  not  feel  bound  to  follow  the  principles 
and  spirit  of  the  common  law   of  the  laud  from 
which  they  had  emigrated,  they  again  decreed — 
"  That  all  trials  whether  capitall,  or  between  man 
and  man,  be  tryed  by  jewryes  according  to  the 
presidents  of  the  law  of  England  as  neer  as  may 


11 

be."  At  this  time  grand  juries  were  established 
and  their  uses  understood,  and  their  duties  pointed 
out  with  very  considerable  precision. 

The  love  of  life,  and  the  dread  which  honest 
and  fair  minds  feel  in  condemning  a  human  being 
to  die  an  ignominious  death,  made  these  virtuous 
men  extremely  cautious  on  the  subject  of  capital 
trials  ;  and  all  the  humane  forms  and  guards  of 
the  common  law  were  strictly  observed. 

Although  our  ancestors  were  particularly  careful 
to  introduce  the  common  law,  yet  many  of  its 
features  were  ameliorated  by  their  statutes.  The 
law  of  descent,  and  many  others,  were  considera- 
bly changed  within  a  few  years  after  the  first 
settlement. 

The  people  in  the  other  parts  of  New  England 
had  a  great  similarity  of  habits  and  feelings,  and 
took  nearly  the  same  course  in  making  laws  and 
in  the  administration  of  justice ;  but  many  years 
elapsed  before  any  thing  like  the  courts  of  the 
mother  country  could  be  established  here. 

The  necessities  of  the  people  did  not  require 
complex  laws,  and  the  general  probity  was  a 
security  in  the  ordinary  transactions  of  life.  Con- 
tracts requiring  time  for  fulfilment  were  few,  for 
most  of  the  business  was  done  by  barter,  and  the 
prices  of  commodities  were  fixed  by  the  common 


12 

understanding  of  the  people,  and  of   course  ex- 
changes were  easy. 

The  first  seventy  years  of  their  history  passed 
away,  producing  but  few,  if  any,  distinguished 
lawyers.  They  were  not  wanted  and  therefore 
did  not  exist. 

Under  the  old  charter,  for  many  years,  civil  and 
political  affairs  were  so  blended  in  the  courts  that 
any  regular  practice  was  impossible.  The  inten- 
tion to  do  justice  probably  was  as  great  as  was 
ever  known  any  where,  but  the  maxims  and  rules 
of  law,  and  the  analysis  of  cases  could  not  have 
been  much  regarded.  Those  who  practised  as 
attornies  for  other  men — for  at  all  times  men  will 
act  by  agents — must  have  been  of  but  little  impor- 
tance in  society,  if  we  can  draw  any  inference 
from  the  early  records. 

^^At  Plymouth  on  the  7th  of  July,  1681,  this 
ordinance  was  made,  Atturneyes  allownce.  It  is 
ordered  by  this  court,  that  there  shall  not  be  allow- 
ed above  five  shillings  cost  for  any  attorney,  or 
attorneyes,  to  any  one  action — and  when  there  shall 
happen  to  be  but  one  attorney  entertained  but  one 
day  in  any  one  action,  then  to  have  two  shillings 
and  six  pence  onely  allowed  him  for  costs  therein." 

The  early  historians  speak  of  these  men  with 
reproach,  and  sometimes   with  contempt,  but  the 


13 

historians  of  that  day  were  generally  a  little  bigot- 
ed, and  their  opinions  of  men  engaged  in  different 
pursuits,  must  be  taken  "  cum  grano  salis.'' 

At  length,  as  the  business  of  the  community  be- 
came  enlarged,  and  of  course  more  complex,  wiser 
men  were  wanted,  and  more  respect  was  paid  to 
those  who  gave  advice  and  direction  in  cases  of 
intricacy  and  importance. 

In  the  year  1692,  the  charter  of  William  and 
Mary  was  brought  to  Massachusetts  by  Sir  Wil- 
LiAM  Phipps.  This  charter,  notwithstanding  the 
murmurs  made  against  it  by  the  people,  as  an 
abridgement  of  their  political  rights  and  liberties, 
contained  many  excellent  things.  The  best  of 
which,  were  judicious  provisions  for  the  establish- 
ment of  courts  of  justice. 

The  first  courts  established  under  this  charter 
were  composed  of  men  of  considerable  standing  in 
society,  and  jurisprudence  began  to  be  considered 
as  a  matter  of  consequence.  But  this  auspicious 
dawn  was  overcast  by  clouds  impregnated  with 
the  most  dark  and  execrable  superstitions,  and 
many  years  of  anguish  ensued  before  a  better  and 
brighter  day  sh(.ne  upon  the  whole  country.  There 
were  parts  of  tht*.  land  where  this  evil  did  not  come, 
and  many  who  never  participated  in  the  prevailing 
folly  and  wickedness.     I  allude  to  the  trials  for 


14 

witchcraft.  In  these  trials  the  accused  had  uo  ad- 
vocates, and  public  infatuation  deprived  them  of  an 
impartial  tribunal.  The  judges,  who  should  have 
been  of  counsel  for  the  prisoner,  when  there  was 
no  other  counsel,  were  led  to  violate  every  princi- 
ple binding  upon  them  in  their  high  and  responsi- 
ble offices,  and  admitted  testimony  which  could 
not  be  true,  given  in  modes  in  which  folly,  fanati- 
cism and  malice  were  blended.  Charity  cannot 
hide  that  period  of  folly  and  crime,  and  memory  re- 
fuses to  give  it  up  to  forgetfulness.  But  it  must  not 
rest  on  the  heads  of  the  judges  alone ;  the  tribu- 
nals of  justice  must  not  be  answerable  for  all  these 
enormities  ;  the  clergy  of  that  day  must  come  in  for 
their  share  of  them.  I  do  not  intend  to  include 
all  of  them,  but  many  of  them  had  prepared  the 
public  ear  for  every  idle  tale  of  familiar  spirits,  in- 
cantations,  and  leagues  with  Beelzebub.  Mather 
was  the  sanctified  leader  of  this  diabolical  frenzy, 
and  poisoned  the  minds  of  the  superstitious  and 
ignorant.  Almost  every  evil  has  some  attending 
good.  From  the  decay  of  nature  springs  new  life. 
The  storm  clears  the  atmosphere,  and  superstition 
once  seen  and  hated,  produces  a  spirit  of  toleration, 
and  brings  on  the  reign  of  reason  and  liberality. 
After  this  troubled  night  of  weakness  and  crime 
had   passed   away,   its   benefits   were  felt.     The 


15 

whole  community  were  sensible  of  the  delusion 
which  had  governed  them ;  the  criminal  code 
assumed  milder  features,  and  the  administration  of 
justice  more  lenient  rules. 

Still,  however,  for  several  years  after  the  code 
grew  better,  the  profession  of  the  law  was  but 
little  respected.  Deputy  sheriffs  filled  writs,  and 
the  chief  advisers  in  most  legal  matters  were 
clerks  of  counties  and  of  towns.  A  few  wise  and 
learned  men  were  scattered  about  the  country,  but 
their  influence  was  not  extensive,  public  prejudice 
had  so  mixed  up  trick  and  chicanery  with  the 
character  of  an  able  lawyer.  But  by  degrees  it 
was  discovered  that  men  of  intellect  and  profes- 
sional talents  were  necessary  in  courts  of  justice 
to  manage  the  business  of  suitors  with  regularity 
and  success.  At  length  the  courts  began  to  en- 
courage ability  in  the  profession,  and  clients  saw 
their  true  interests  ;  and  clients  are  the  best,  and 
in  fact,  the  only  [patrons  of  merit. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  last  century,  John 
Read,  a  man  of  genius  and  profound  acquire- 
ments, began  his  career  as  a  lawyer.  To  sterling 
integrity,  extensive  views,  and  decision  of  charac- 
ter, he  added  industry,  and  the  laudable  ambition 
of  distinction  in  his  profession.  He  reduced  the 
jarring  and  contradictory  forms  of  practice,  tp  a 


16 

system ;  taught  courts  the  advantages  ef  prece- 
dents, and  practitioners  the  value  of  knowledge. 
All  that  has  come  down  to  us  from  him  shows 
acumen^  research,  and  vigour  of  understanding. 
His  pupils  took  him  for  a  model,  and  found  advan- 
tage from  following  his  example.  His  coadjutor, 
Paul  Dudley,  attorney  general,  and  afterwards 
chief  justice  of  the  commonwealth,  was  a  profound 
lawyer,  and  an  excellent  man,  and  assisted  Read 
in  giving  tone  and  spirit  to  the  practice  of  the  law. 
Gridley,  Shirley,  Bollan,  and  others  of  distinc- 
tion, followed,  and  assisted  in  canying  on  the  work 
which  Read  and  Dudley  had  so  auspiciously  be- 
gan. But  error  and  ignorance  are  inveterate  foes 
to  the  progress  of  information,  and  it  was  long 
before  the  influence  of  these  men  reached  the  other 
parts  of  the  commonwealth.  The  example  of  the 
turbulent  and  factious  is  contagious,  for  the  evil 
passions  are  readily  excited,  and  even  the  example 
of  the  moral  virtues  is  more  eflFective  than  the  ex- 
ample of  that  duty  which  requires  patient  and 
painful  study,  and  long  and  strenuous  discipline 
of  the  mind.  Indolence,  prejudice,  and  ^' hoary 
error"  unite  to  impede  the  march  of  truth  and 
science.  Individuals,  and  communities  are  unwil- 
ling to  be  enlightened  ;  they  resist  the  light  of 
knowledge  like  Saul  of  Tarsus,  the  persecutor  of 


17 

old,  until  it  is  too  powerful  to  be  withstood,  and 
pours  its  rays  on  their  eye- balls  as  it  were  from 
heaven. 

The  next  generation  of  lawyers  formed  bar 
rules  to  protect  their  rights,  and  ensure  to  the 
community  a  succession  of  intelligent  practitioners 
in  the  profession.  These  rules  were  wise  and 
judicious,  and  have  been  the  basis  of  all  the  bar  re- 
gulations which  have  since  been  adopted  through- 
out this  commonwealth.  Among  the  luminaries  at 
the  bar  at  this  time  were,  Otis,  Thaciier,  Quincy, 
Adams,  Dana,  Sullivan,  Lowell,  and  others, 
who  have  since  been  distinguished  in  the  political 
world.  These  men  profitted  by  the  industry  and 
talents  of  their  predecessors,  and  added  to  the 
former  stock  of  knowledge  by  procuring  the  recent 
English  publications  of  standard  authority.  Pre- 
vious to  this  time,  a  lawyer's  library  was,  in  gen- 
eral, very  limited.  Fifty,  or  an  hundred  volumes, 
were  deemed  a  very  considerable  collection  of 
books  ;  there  were  however  some  exceptions  to 
this  remark. 

From  the  nature  of  our  government  at  that  time, 
and  the  peculiar  situation  in  which  this  country  had 
long  been  placed,  all  our  distinguished  men  had 
made  politics  their  study.  They  not  only  discussed 
principles,  but  disseminated  their  opinions  through. 

3 


18 

every  part  of  the  commonwealth.  All  lawyer* 
of  celebrity  at  that  time,  rode  most  of  the  circuits 
with  the  court;,  and  becoming  acquainted  with  the 
people,  easily  mixed  with  them,  and  gave  a  tone 
to  their  feelings,  and  a  direction  to  their  opinions. 
These  shrewd  observers  perfectly  understood  what 
manner  of  men  their  fellow  citizens  were,  and  they 
knew  what  reliance  could  be  placed  on  them  in 
difficulty  and  danger.  The  most  ordinary  man  in 
the  smallest  village,  could  repeat  something  which 
had  fallen  from  the  lips  of  these  oracles  of  law 
and  politics ;  and  observers  found  that  bold  senti- 
ments of  liberty,  sharp  observations,  and  some- 
times pointed  sarcasms  against  the  mother  country, 
were  most  readily  caught  and  treasured  up  by  the 
people  in  general.  Perhaps  these  men  who  gov- 
erned and  felt  the  public  pulse,  had  not  a  distinct 
plan,  nor  at  that  time  thought  of  absolute  indepen- 
dence for  their  country ;  but  this  they  certainly 
had  in  view,  that  as  encroachment  might  follow 
encroachment,  and  irritation  for  a  long  time  con- 
tinue, that  the  public  mind  should  be  enlightened, 
and  the  nerves  of  the  people  braced  against  any 
evil  which  might  happen.  They  knew  that  illu- 
minated man  is  always  a  friend  to  just  and  equal 
laws,  and  an  enemy  to  arbitrary  power  in  every 
form  that  it  may  assume.     It  will  not  be  denied  by 


19 

tlie  judicious  historian  that  they  did  much  in  open- 
ing those  fountains  of  political  knowledge,  whose 
streams  continued  widening  and  deepening  as  they 
rolled  on,  and,  like  the  Mississippi,  distributed 
their  overflowing  currents  in  numerous  channels, 
enriching  the  public  intellect,  and  causing  to 
spring  up  those  feelings,  opinions  and  principles 
which  carried  on  and  finished  the  revolution. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  war  most  of  the 
courts   which   were   established   had  but  little  to 
do,  except  admiralty  courts.     These  were   indis- 
pensably necessary  for  the  adjudication  and  con- 
demnation of  prizes   taken  and  brought  into  the 
country  by  our   armed   vessels.      The   lawyers, 
except  a  few   who  still  adhered  to   the    mother 
country,    were   mostly   engaged   in  political  life, 
and  some  of  them  never  returned  to  the  profession. 
While  the  war  for  independence  continued,  the 
young  gentlemen  intended  for  the  bar  had  an  ex- 
cellent opportunity  of  storing  up  information,  for 
they  could  not  enter  into  any  business  during  these 
troublesome  times.     The  moment    that   war   had 
ceased,  the  talents  and  acquirements  of  this  new 
generation  were  developed  ;  they  were  full  of  life 
and  action  in  forming  constitutions  of  government, 
in  establishing   courts,    and   in  making  laws   for 
the  public  good.     They  had  been  learning  while 


20 

others  were  fighting,  and  reflecting  while  others 
were  acting ;  and  on  the  first  opportunity  discov- 
ered to  their  country  that  they  had  much  of  the 
wisdom  of  years,  without  the  prejudices  of  old 
men.  The  history  of  our  institutions  bears  witness 
to  this  remark,  and  where  these  institutions  are 
most  defective,  the  defects  generally  arose  from 
yielding  to  the  influence  of  some  of  their  seniors^ 
whose  virtues  were  too  conspicuous  to  the  peo- 
ple to  permit  their  prejudices  to  be  opposed  with 
success. 

Many  of  the  aged  actors  in  the  revolution,  who 
had  not  much  acquaintance  with  the  new  genera- 
tion, were  fearful  that  our  national  glories  would 
be  lost  for  want  of  a  high  minded  race  to  complete 
the  work  of  freedom.  But  their  fears  were  vis- 
ionary :  the  new  race,  like  the  chariot  coursers  of 
the  ancients,  exhibited  a  vigour  and  fire  in  propor- 
tion to  the  length  of  time  they  had  been  kept  in 
the  training,  before  they  were  brought  in  the  har- 
ness to  be  yoked  to  the  car.  These  remarks  will 
apply  to  most  of  the  states  of  the  union,  and  to  the 
great  men  who  made  their  appearance  at  the  close 
of  the  war.  In  the  new  state  of  things  after  the 
revolution,  the  people  were  cautious  and  doubtful 
of  every  thing  ;  all  arrangements  were  considered 
merely  as  experiments. 


21 

From  prudence,  perhaps,  rather  than  from  parsi- 
mony, they  made  all  the  salaries  of  public  ofiRcers 
very  small,  and  it  was  necessary  for  men  of  talents 
to  make  great  pecuniary  sacrifices  in  accepting  any 
public  oflBce,  and  particularly  that  of  a  judge.  The 
system  of  jurisprudence  was  only  to  be  improved 
bj^  gentle  methods,  and  by  degrees  ;  and  the  law- 
yers took  every  opportunity  to  remove  difficulties, 
correct  abuses,  and  to  bring  every  thing  to  a 
proper  and  just  course.  Nothing  can  be  more 
absurd  than  that  five  judges,  sitting  in  a  trial, 
should  each  give  charges  to  a  jury,  no  two  perhaps 
agreeing  in  opinion  upon  facts,  and  probably  dif- 
fering in  some  point  of  law.  But  notwithstanding 
this  absurdity  was  so  palpable,  yet  the  lawyers 
had  great  labour  in  opposing  public  prejudice  to 
obtain  an  alteration.  This  was  only  one  of  the 
many  obstacles  they  had  to  encounter,  in  bringing 
about  a  reformation  in  our  judicial  tribunals. 

The  number  of  lawyers  have  increased  more 
than  four  fold  since  the  peace  of  1783.  Tliere 
are  not  perhaps  now  at  the  bar  so  many  distin- 
guished men  in  proportion  to  the  whole  number, 
as  there  were  at  that  period  ;  but  it  is  not  because 
they  have  not  as  much  knowledge  and  talent,  but 
because  the  standard  of  greatness  is  altered. 
Then,  the  more  exclusively  a  man  was  devoted  to 


22 

technical  learning,  even  to  the  total  disregard  of 
general  information,  the  higher  was  his  reputation 
as  a  lawyer  among  most  people.  The  public 
taste  was  not  then  formed ;  the  Gothic  pile  was 
preferred  to  the  Grecian  architecture,  and  the  un- 
couth and  narrow  portal  to  the  lofty  arch  ;  what 
was  made  rough  and  massy  in  appearance  was 
supposed  to  be  excessive  in  strength,  without  re- 
gard to  the  principles  of  its  structure.  They  for- 
got that  the  beautiful  and  magnificent  temple  of 
Theseus  had  stood  in  its  simplicity  and  loveliness 
amid  the  wreck  of  ages,  while  a  thousand  dark 
and  ponderous  towers  had  crumbled  to  the  dust. 
At  that  period  Coke  was  considered  as  the  greatest 
lawyer  that  ever  lived;,  and  Mansfield  talked  of 
as  a  polished  innovator.  Time  has  changed  the 
standard  of  judgment,  and  fixed  the  proper  value 
on  both.  The  windings  and  intricacies  of  techni- 
cal learning  in  the  law  were  tliought  as  diflBcult  to 
be  traced  as  the  mazes  of  the  Cretan  labyrinth ; 
but  the  darkness  is  gone,  and  we  travel  in  secu- 
rity where  our  predecessors  wandered  in  doubt. 
Modern  science  has  lighted  up  a  torch  for  every 
traveller,  and  fixed  a  safety-lamp  in  every  mine 
worth  exploring. 

A  lawyer  to  be  distinguished  at  the  present  day 
must  not  only  be  well  versed  in  technical  learning, 


2d 

hut  have  a  general  acquaintance  with  the  literature 
and  science  of  the  times.  The  advancements  of 
the  age  in  metaphysics,  physics,  and  polite  litera- 
ture, give  an  elevation  to  feeling,  and  a  character 
to  knowledge.  The  great  lawyers  of  the  present 
day  bring  all  the  lights  of  science  to  raise  and 
adorn  the  profession. 

The  professors  of  the  law  from  their  habits,  sit- 
uation and  relations  in  society  have  a  marked  and 
unquestionable  influence  on  the  moral,  civil  and 
political  affairs  of  the  world.  In  every  country 
where  an  altar  has  been  erected  to  liberty,  there 
tlie  profession  has  been  found,  and  it  has  flourished 
in  proportion  to  the  extent  and  permanency  of  the 
freedom  of  the  people.  In  Greece  existed  eloquent 
advocates,  orators  and  lawyers,  skilled  in  the  tech- 
nical proceedings  of  tlie  profession,  to  defend  the 
accused,  and  to  prosecute  for  the  rights  of  the  injur- 
ed and  oppressed.  The  orations  of  Isseus,  and 
the  bold,  argumentative,  and  pointed  speeches  of 
Demosthenes,  have  been  preserved  as  models  of 
splendid  eloquence,  and  profound  reasoning.  It 
is  the  prerogative  of  a  freeman  to  make  use  of  the 
talents  of  another  in  his  own  cause.  He  has  a 
right  to  call  to  his  assistance  such  powers  of  mind 
as  he  can  obtain,  and  as  it  were  to  choose  his 
champion  to  enter  the  lists  against  his  adversary. 


24f 

la  Rome  this  profession  was  divided  into  lawyers, 
technically  speaking,  and  advocates,  or  orators. 
Their  characters,  their  influence,  their  rank  in 
society,  and  even  their  manner  of  speaking,  has 
been  preserved  to  us  by  that  most  splendid  of 
ancient  masters  in  eloquence,  Cicero,  who  enam- 
oured with  the  profession,  pursued  it  with  un- 
equalled ardour  and  success.  The  lawyers  and 
counsellors  of  Rome  were  the  first  men  who  broke 
down  the  preposterous  principle,  that  the  son  could 
hold  nothing  which  might  be  called  property,  dur- 
ing the  life  of  his  father.  The  sums  paid  to  an 
advocate,  not  being  the  wages  or  dues  of  hire,  but 
honorary  gratuities,  were  exempt  from  the  common, 
but  absurd  rule,  that  having  inherited  life  from  a 
parent,  all  the  earnings  of  the  son  were  subject  to 
his  disposal  for  that  gift.  This  property,  the  fees 
of  the  advocate,  arising  from  superior  intellect,  was 
the  gift  of  the  gods,  and  of  course  not  to  be  consid- 
ered with  ordinary  treasurers.  But  the  great  men 
of  Rome  had  no  certain  power  and  interest  in  the 
public  ;  sometimes  they  were  overpowered  by  the 
turbulence  of  democracy,  and  sometimes  frowned  to 
silence  by  arbitrary  authority.  The  first  fair  and 
legitimate  period  for  the  exercise  of  legal  talents, 
was  from  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  in  England,  to 
the  present  time,  and  in  our  country  from  1760, 


25 

uuto  our  day.  But  leaving  the  profession  in  Eng- 
land for  others  to  describe^  I  shall  confine  my 
observations  to  the  United  States.  It  is  true  that 
here,  we  have  not  a  body  of  nobility,  nor  do  we 
suffer  from  a  loose,  uncertain,  vacillating  popula- 
tion,  but  there  exist  classes  in  society,  which  have, 
and  ever  will  have,  interests  apparently  different, 
and  will  pursue  them  with  pertinacity  and  uutired 
ardour.  The  lawyers  in  this  country  are  a  class  of 
men  placed  precisely  between  these  parties.  They 
know  their  rights,  and  the  value  of  freedom  and 
good  institutions  to  all.  They  spring  from  all 
ranks,  without  the  peculiar  feelings  of  any  one. 
Their  education  and  pursuits  lead  them  to  a  full 
understanding  of  the  value  of  civil,  religious  and 
political  liberty  ;  and  the  constant  exercise  of  their 
faculties,  makes  them  fearless  of  declaring  their 
opinions.  In  this  situation  they  stand,  assisting 
to  keep  the  aristocracy  from  committing  injustice 
and  oppression,  and  democracy  from  sweeping 
away  every  thing,  by  wild  uproar  and  confusion. 
They  ar«  placed  between  contending  parties  and 
interests,  to  prevent  feuds  and  outrage.  I  speak 
of  natural,  not  occasional  and  accidental  parties  in 
politics.  With  unabated  industry,  they  reach,  but 
seldom  go  beyond  the  prayer  of  Agur ;  they  have 
neither  poverty,  nor  riches ;   and  indeed  seldom 

4 


26 

from  fciluess  forget  the  duties  they  owe  to  man  and 
Grod,  and  rarely  from  poverty  abuse  the  rights  of 
others.  It  is  not  of  individuals  I  speak,  but  the 
body  of  the  profession.  Neither  class  of  people 
seem  at  all  sensible  of  what  it  owes  to  the  profes- 
sion, nor  does  the  profession  know  at  all  times  the 
relation  in"  which  it  stands  to  such  differing  inter- 
ests in  the  community.  It  is  not  that  men  in  this 
profession  have  more  patriotism  than  others,  but 
the  whole  arises  from  their  situation,  pursuits  and 
habits  of  thought. 

I  am  not  ignorant  of  the  great  and  lasting  bene- 
fits mankind  have  derived  from  a  learned  faculty 
in  medicine  ;  I  consider  a  philosophical  physician 
as  the  Hierophant  of  nature,  who  explains  her 
mysteries,  and  records  her  laws ;  and  a  wise  and 
pious  clergy,  as  a  body  of  men,  whose  lives  are 
spent  in  giving  stability  to  morals,  and  elevation  to 
hopes,  whose  holy  office  it  is  to  brace  the  mind  of 
suffering  humanity  by  the  precepts  of  wisdom,  and 
to  smooth  the  bed  of  the  dying,  by  the  promises  and 
consolations  of  inspiration.  I  reverence  the  great 
and  good  men  of  all  professions  and  pursuits  ;  but 
no  one  will  think  it  unjust  to  observe,  that]  neither 
divinity  nor  medicine  is  so  directly  connected  with 
the  political  or  civil  relations  of  life  as  the  profes- 
sion  of  the  law. 


27 


Connected  as  this  profession  is  with  the  business 
of  life,  and  established  to  promote  lujowledge,  and 
to  Secure  rights  by  the  administration  of  justice 
throughout  the  community,  it  might  naturally  be 
inferred   tliat  its    disciples    were  the  happiest  of 
men  ;  hut  this  is  not  true.     The  days  of  prepara- 
tion  and    pupilage  are   long,    and   after  they  are 
closed,    many    years    must   pass   away    before    a 
lawyer,  even  by  the   most  painful  industry,  can 
obtain  sufficient  science,  readiness  and  experience 
to  gain  public  confidence,  and  important  business. 
If  wealth  be  his  object,  he  sees  a  host  in  this  pro- 
fession lingering  in  obscurity,  while  but  a  few  rise 
to  eminence,  and  accumulate  riches.      If  fame  and 
office  be  the  pursuits  of  his  ambition  and  wishes, 
he  discovers  in  his  progress,  that  the  jealousies  of 
men  are  forever  against  him  as  a  lawyer,  arising 
no  doubt  from  their  misunderstanding  his  duties, 
and  sad  experience  will  often  teach  him,  that  even 
feeble  rivals  will  sometimes   be    more  successful 
than  himself.     He  is  not  only  subject  to  the  preju- 
dices of  common  minds,  but  has  frequently  to  meet 
the   indignation   of  the  satirist.       Accustomed  to 
make  the  information  of  others   subservient  to  the 
purposes  of  justice  in  the  regular  course  of  busi- 
ness, and  having  the  power  to  bring  any  one  before 
a  tribunal  by  compulsory  process,  to  make  him 


28 

pour  out  that  knowledge  into  the  legal  alembic  for 
ready  use,  the  lawyer  without  great  care  in  the 
moments  of  haste  and  anxiety,  is  apt  to  forget  that 
gentle  spirit,  which  illicits  truth  with  purity  and 
freedom.  Accustomed  himself  to  pungency  of 
remark,  and  indifferent  to  its  effects,  the  advocate 
sometimes  does  not  recollect,  that  others,  and  par- 
ticularly retired  and  literary  men,  have  feelings 
more  attenuated  and  delicate  than  those  who  are 
constantly  in  contact  with  the  world.  The  slightest 
wound  among  tender  fibres  festers  suddenly,  and 
is  long  in  healing.  The  amenity  of  modern  man- 
ners, however,  is  rapidly  doing  away  this  stain  on 
the  courtesy  of  the  profession. 

There  ever  have  been,  and  ever  will  be,  some 
miscreants  in  every  walk  of  life,  and  law  has  its 
share.  Quackery  is  not  confined  to  any  particular 
profession.  The  ignorant  pretender  to  a  knowl- 
edge of  medicine  was  described  by  Hippocrates,  as 
a  wretch  whom  no  law  could  reach,  and  no  igno- 
miny disgrace.  The  fanatic  in  religion,  who  turns 
the  world  upside  down,  is  a  grievous  nuisance  to 
society,  and  a  disturber  of  all  that  is  settled  and 
formal  in  religious  establishments  ;  but  the  petti- 
fogger, whose  knowledge  is  scanty,  and  whose 
honesty  is  equivocal,  has  a  still  greater  opportunity 
to  do  mischief.     Sheltered  by  the  salutary  forms 


29 

of  the  law,  which  were  made  for  wise  and  good 
purposes,  he  becomes  the  organ  of  all  the  little, 
pitiful  venom  and  oppressions,  which  mean  spirited 
malignity  wishes  to  exercise  against  those  whom  it 
has  power  to  injure.  By  means  of  these  wretches 
malice  assumes  the  scales  of  justice,  to  mete  out 
bitterness,  extortion  and  vengeance  by  standard 
weight  and  measure.  Without  intelligence  or 
principle,  without  firmness  or  courage,  but  by  a 
seeming  regard  to  official  duties,  and  want  of  strict 
justice,  they  wring  from  the  widow's  hand  the  cup 
of  water,  and  from  her  orphan  children  the  crust 
of  bread ;  and  what  is  worse,  they  sometimes 
acquire  a  name  for  smartness,  readiness  and  punc- 
tuality, and  grow  fat  upon  the  fruits  of  extortion. 
But  they  are  not  numerous,  nor  are  they  respected 
for  honesty  or  intelligence.  They  are  only  "  ver- 
min gendered  on  a  lion's  crest,"  and  are  named, 
only  to  be  abhorred. 

Political  prosperity  may  suddenly  change  and 
bring  disappointment  and  distress  to  a  nation,  but 
the  information  and  habits  of  thinking  and  acting 
acquired  by  individuals,  and  the  whole  character 
and  influence  of  a  profession,  cannot  so  easily 
alter.  Relations  in  society  which  are  formed  by 
mature  reflection,  will  be  maintained  so  long  as 
knowledge  is  diffused,  and  liberty  and  all  its  valu- 


30 

able  institutions  are  considered  a  blessing.  There 
is  now  a  permanency  in  knowledge,  of  which 
former  ages  could  not  boast.  Science  and  learn- 
ing, which  consisted  in  facts,  when  transmitted  by 
tradition,  or  committed  only  to  writing,  which 
might  easily  be  lost,  were  of  very  uncertain  con- 
tinuance. The  wise  were  in  constant  dread,  that 
some  valuable  principle  would  be  lost  by  negli- 
gence, or  perfidy,  but  since  the  age  of  printing, 
that  fear  has  disappeared,  and  the  sage  in  any 
science  has  no  apprehensions  for  the  fate  of  his 
discoveries. 

The  law  which  depends  on  correct  analysis  and 
nice  distinctions,  formerly  was  not  only  difficult 
to  obtain,  but  still  more  so  to  preserve ;  but  since 
the  mature  decisions  of  its  learned  professors  on 
the  bench  have  been  recorded  with  technical  pre- 
cision, and  reported  with  professional  accuracy 
and  care,  much  labour  is  saved,  and  many  doubts 
removed.  The  science  is  enlarged  by  the  wisdom 
of  every  age,  but  the  facilities  of  acquiring  knowl- 
edge increase  faster  than  the  exemplifications  of 
principles  and  opinions. 

Every  profession  has,  and  ever  will  have,  its 
greater  and  lesser  lights,  whose  parallaxes  it  is 
difficult  to  measure.  The  eye  of  the  mind  has  its 
optical  illusions,  and  mental,  as  well  as  natural 


31 

vision,  is  liable  to  deception.  The  moon,  before 
the  world  knew  much  of  astronomy,  was  consid- 
ered a  larger  planet  than  Jupiter  or  Saturn ;  and 
many  feeble  and  weak  minded  men  have  from 
accidental  circumstances,  and  from  the  ignorance 
of  those  around  them,  appeared  large  and  perma- 
nent luminaries,  while  those  from  whom  they  bor- 
rowed their  light,  were  not  seen.  One  of  the  great 
benefits  to  be  derived  from  the  increase  and  diffu- 
sion of  knowledge  is,  that  it  enlarges  our  views, 
corrects  our  judgments,  and  gives  us  an  opportu- 
nity of  forming  fair  and  judicious  opinions  of  men. 

Political  agitations,  and  party  feuds,  often  ele- 
vate  ordinary  men  for  a  while,  as  the  most  common 
of  the  feathered  tribe  are  raised  beyond  their 
proper  altitude,  when  they  venture  a  flight  in  a 
storm ;  but  the  strength,  the  courage,  and  the 
pinions  of  the  eagle,  are  required  to  soar,  and  poise 
sublimely  in  the  higher  regions  of  the  air,  in  the 
hours  of  calm  and  sunshine.  ^ 

If  some  few  in  this  profession  do  not  receive 
such  emoluments  and  honours  from  the  public  as 
they  merit,  it  is  no  more  than  can  with  truth  be 
said  of  men  of  talents  in  every  walk  of  life. 
Bread  is  not  always  given  to  men  of  understand- 
ing, nor  favour  to  men  of  skill,  but  time  and  chance 
happen  to  all. 


^ 


32 

Of  statesmen  and  men  of  letters  I  shall  say  but 
little  in  this  place.  In  the  sketches  of  their  char- 
acters,  such  remarks  are  made  as  occurred  in 
writing  them.  Literature  and  politics  are  gener- 
ally pursued  by  most  men  of  talents  in  this  coun- 
try in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  according  to  their 
opportunity  and  disposition  ;  but  our  statesmen  and 
literati  cannot  as  yet  be  considered  as  classes  of 
men  exclusively  devoted  to  politics  or  letters,  for 
they  are  now^  found  mostly  attached  to  the  learned 
professions.  Some  few  there  are  who  make  it  the 
whole  business  of  their  lives  to  pursue  the  delight- 
ful wanderings  of  science  and  letters,  and  a  fewer 
still  are  constantly  engaged  from  manhood  to  age 
in  politics ;  but  their  number  is  too  small  to  have 
any  particular  influence  upon  society.  Our  nu- 
merous state  governments  are  favourable  to  the 
growth  of  politicians.  The  legislatures  of  the 
several  states  are  so  many  schools  for  the  educa- 
tion of  statesmen.  A  general  diffusion  of  know- 
ledge is  the  foundation  and  prop  of  republican 
institutions.  In  achieving  our  independence,  and 
in  building  up  our  national  character,  a  long  list 
of  statesmen  arose  from  every  grade  of  life,  posess- 
ed  of  knowledge,  firmness  and  love  of  country, 
whose  labours  and  whose  fame  deserve  perpetual 
remembrance.     These  men  were  not  only  rich  in 


33 

the  gifts  of  genius,  and  the  virtues  of  patriots,  but 
were  able  to  defend  and  support  their  opinions 
with  eloquence,  and  enforce  their  reasoning  with 
the  charms  of  the  most  finished  composition.  The 
declaration  of  independence,  and  the  addresses 
of  the  American  Congress  to  the  king  of  Great 
Britain,  have  been  ranked  by  competent  judges 
among  the  productions  of  the  master- writers  of  the 
first  classic  age  of  the  world. 

Although  we  have  but  few  men  wholly  devoted 
to  letters,  yet  the  progress  of  knowledge  in  this 
country  is  rapid  beyond  the  calculations  of  the  most 
visionary  patriot  of  the  preceding  age.  There  is 
an  awakening  spirit  gone  abroad  through  the  land, 
and  the  obstinacy  of  sturdy  ignorance,  and  the 
indifference  of  busy  thriftiness,  are  fast  yielding  to 
the  progress  of  literature  and  science.  The  most 
stupid  can  see  that  science  has  come  from  heaven, 
to  enter  the  work  shops  of  the  mechanic,  and  to 
travel  on  the  high-road  of  business,  to  facilitate 
the  labours  of  industry ;  and  it  is  not  difficult  for 
common  intellects  to  perceive  that  letters  are  con- 
nected with  science,  which  is  so  valuable  even  for 
the  ordinary  purposes  of  life. 

In  New  England,  societies  are  every  day  spring- 
ing up  for  the  diffusion  of  knowledge  and  charity ; 
but  I  will  leave  her  laws,  and  her  institutions,  be- 

5 


34 

cause  it  is  natural  for  every  man  to  "garner  up" 
his  affections  for  his  birth-place,  and  say  too  much. 

In  looking  over  our  extensive  country,  how 
cheering  is  the  prospect  to  the  literary  philanthro- 
pist !  "  Penn's  throng'd  city"  is  a  morning  star  in 
the  celestial  hemisphere  of  light  and  knowledge. 
Her  numerous  institutions  for  the  promotion  of  tlie 
fine  arts,  science  and  letters ;  her  periodical  pro- 
ductions of  taste  and  talent ;  her  ardent  and  steady 
perseverance  in  the  cause  of  knowledge  and  hu- 
manity, give  her  unquestionable  claims  to  distinc- 
tion. New  York,  whose  high  destinies  are  no 
longer  within  the  scope  of  prophecy,  but  are 
matter  of  fact  and  sober  calculation,  and  who  is  not 
so  much  absorbed  in  her  domestic  politics  as  she 
seems  to  be,  is  ambitious  in  the  pursuit  of  know- 
ledge, and  whenever  she  moves,  it  is  with  mighty 
strides,  and  whatever  she  grasps  is  held  with 
giant  strength.  The  cities  of  the  south  are  full  of 
literary  emulation.  The  vestern  wilderness  has 
already  blossomed  like  the  rose — there  '•  beyond 
the  mountains"  literary  institutions  are  eslablisih- 
ed  under  the  care  and  ii,uidance  of  the  prouiiest 
talents  of  the  atlantic  stntes. 

But  from  the  course  I'Inive  prescribed  to  myself 
I  cannot  dwell  long  on  things  presf^nt,  .)or  iiuluJ.;i;e 
in  many  conjectures  of  the  future.     The  past  alone 


35 


is  my  province,  and  I  must  close  my  eyes  on  all  the 
delightful  visions  which  float  before  me.  I  go 
back  to  the  mansions  of  the  dead,  and  to  the  shades 
of  the  cypress  and  the  willow,  to  broken  tomb- 
stones and  obscure  epitaphs,  to  partial  histories, 
and  scanty  traditions. 


PARSONS. 


THE  features  of  some  men,  who  have  a  marked 
and  strong  physiognomy,  are  familiar  to  us  in  the 
productions  of  every  artist,  who  attempts  to  give 
their  likenesses  to  the  public.  There  are  expres- 
sions  too  striking  to  be  lost.  Nature  will  not  suffer 
her  distinguishing  lines  to  be  forgotten  by  careless- 
ness, or  effaced  by  want  of  talent.  The  heads  of 
Shakspeare,  Bacon,  and  Napoleon,  are  as  well 
known  by  the  wretched  cuts  of  a  print-shop,  as  by 
the  productions  of  the  pencils  of  Reynolds,  and 
David,  or  the  graver  of  Fuseli.  It  is  the  same 
with  the  moral  and  mental  qualities  of  some  great 
men,  drawn  by  ever  so  ordinary  a  writer,  their 
superiority  is  evident.  A  mere  sketch  assists  us 
to  preserve  a  remembrance  of  those  whose  talents 
and  virtues  deserve  recollection  ;  and  from  faint 
outlines,  the  able  historian  frequently  forms  an 
ample,  beautiful,  and  imperishable  biography. 

It  is  a  trite,  but  incorrect  remark,  that  it  is  one 
of  the  hi2;hest  efforts  of  the  writer  to  delineate  the 
character  of  a  great  man.     The  dull  and  regular 


38 

features  of  imbecility,  or  mediocrity,  are  more  diffi- 
cult to  trace,  than  the  bold  irapressious  of  genius  ; 
more  taste  is  required  to  describe  ^'  the  elegantly 
little,''  than  "  the  awfully  vast."  To  show  the 
moth- worm  from  its  birth  in  the  dust,  through  its 
chrysalis  state,  to  its  bursting  into  life,  in  its 
second  and  beautiful  form  of  existence,  spreading 
its  new  born  wings  to  flutter  and  revel  in  the  sun- 
shine, and  pass  away  on  the  summer  breeze,  re- 
quires a  higher  effort  of  talent,  and  demands  more 
powers  of  description,  than  it  does  to  give  the 
whole  history  of  the  hundred  years  of  the  life  of 
the  eagle.  It  requires  more  delicacy  and  judg- 
ment to  describe  mount  Hymettus  with  its  flowers, 
and  the  course  of  Illyssus,  with  its  delightful 
wanderings,  than  it  does  to  make  a  map  of  the 
Mississippi,  which  springs  from  one  side  of  the 
continent,  and  empties  its  waters  on  the  other,  or 
to  trace  the  Andes,  in  whose  giant  shade  the 
nations  of  the  world  might  repose. 

With  the  character  of  a  great  man,  the  writer 
can  take  the  latitude  of  an  historian  before  the 
tomb  has  closed  on  the  ashes  of  his  subject.  Time 
is  not  wanted  to  soften  or  hide  defects,  when  the 
high  qualities  of  the  mind  over-balance  them  ;  but 
for  the  dead  whom  fortune  once  made  conspicuous, 
when  nature  did  not  intend  them  to  be  great,  the 


89 

eulogist  must  collect  their  virtues^  and  dispose 
of  them  with  such  skill  and  care  as  to  bring  what- 
ever is  good,  or  commendatory,  into  the  light,  and 
conceal  their  defects  in  the  shade  ;  while  the 
biographer  of  true  greatness,  having  no  need  of 
disguise,  goes  on  with  honest  simplicity,  and  tells 
the  world  all  he  can  gather,  and  all  he  knows. 
Influenced  by  such  reasonings  as  I  have  attempted 
to  give,  and  illustrate — and  believing  that  my  out- 
lines will,  at  a  future  day,  be  filled  up  by  some 
master- hand,  I  have  ventured  to  place  among  my 
sketches  the  late  Chief  Justice  Parsons  ;  a  name 
which  fills  the  largest  space  in  the  annals  of  our 
bar. 

Theophilus  Parsons  was  born  at  Byfield,  a 
parish  in  the  town  of  Newbury,  in  the  county  of 
Essex,  on  the  24th  of  February,  1750.  His  father 
was  the  Rev.  Moses  Parsons,  the  clergyman  of 
the  parish,  who  had  several  sons  distinguished  for 
their  talents.  To  three  of  them  he  gave  an  educa- 
tion at  Harvard  University,  and  two  others  were 
bred  as  merchants.  This  family  had  great  advan- 
tages in  obtaining  the  elementary  principles  of 
knowledge,  as  there  was  an  academy  in  the  very 
neighbourhood,  the  first  which  was  founded  in 
New  England.     Most  of  the  eminent  scholars  of 


40 

the  last  century  in  this  commonwealth  received 
the  rudiments  of  learning  at  this  institution.  At 
the  time  Parsons  was  a  student  at  Dummer  aca- 
demy, it  was  under  the  care  of  the  celebrated 
master  Moody,  who  lived  to  a  good  old  age,  and 
was  well  known  to  those  of  our  day,  as  a  man  of 
learning  and  piety ;  but  remembered,  perhaps, 
more  for  his  singularities,  than  any  other  American 
instructer.  He  was  constantly  compared  to  Busby, 
Sheridan,  and  master  More,  for  extensive  informa- 
tion and  eccentricities.  His  pupils  were  always 
considered  by  him  as  his  children,  for  he  was  a 
bachelor,  and  he  claimed  an  interest  in  their  fame 
and  success,  or  sympathized  in  their  misfortunes, 
whatever  time  had  elapsed  since  they  had  been 
under  his  care,  or  whatever  distance  separated 
them ;  and  in  every  interview  with  them  he  still 
remembered  that  he  was  once  their  tutor,  and  kept 
up  his  former  air  of  superiority  and  distinction. 
Parsons  highly  respected  his  old  instructer,  and 
frequently,  even  to  his  last  years,  amused  himself 
and  his  friends  with  anecdotes  of  his  goodness  and 
eccentricity.  At  this  school  Parsons  was  distin- 
guished for  his  capacity,  and  acquirements,  and 
always  obtained  the  highest  eulogy  his  old  friend 
had  to  bestow,  "  he  is  a  brave  boy,"  which  epithet 
with  him  retained  its  original  signification.     From 


41 

this  school  Parsons  went  to  college,  in  the  year 
1765,  and  was  ranked  among  the  first  of  his  class  ; 
and  at  the  time  when  he  graduated,  was  thought 
by  many  to  be  the  first  in  talents  and  knowledge, 
of  all  who  had  graduated  for  many  years.     The 
late  judge  Tudor  was  his  chum,  and  class-mate, 
and  used  to  describe  with  great  minuteness  and 
accuracy  his  course  of  studies,  his  tastes,  habits, 
and  disposition.     No  one  knew   Parsons  better 
than  this  excellent  man,  for  they  were  intimate 
friends  for  forty-eight  years.    Parsons  commenced 
the  study  of  the  law  at  Portland,  then  called  Fal- 
mouth, with  the  late  judge  Bradbury.     During  a 
part  of  the  term  of  three  years  he  was  engaged  in 
keeping  school,  and  when  he  offered   himself  for 
admission  as  an  attorney  in  the  courts,  an  objec- 
tion was  made,  stating  this  fact ;    for  the  rule  re- 
quiring three  whole  years,  uninterrupted  by  any 
other  occupation,  to   be  spent   in   a   counsellor's 
office,   had   been   established   by   the  bar  in  the 
county  of  Suffolk  in  the  year  1760,  and  agreed  to 
afterwards  by  the   bar  throughout   the   common- 
wealth.    Parsons  urged  his  admission,  alleging 
there  were  exceptions  to  all  rules,  and  requested 
that  those  learned  in  the  law  might  examine  him  ; 
this  was  so  far  done  as  to  satisfy  the  bar  that  he 
was  a  young  man  of  singular  acquirements,  and 
6 


42 

worthy  to  be  admitted  to  practice,  and  their  con- 
sent was  unanimously  given  ;  so  that  in  truth  he 
was  distinguished  as  a  lawyer  at  the  very  com- 
mencement of  his  career.  He  continued  in  prac- 
tice in  Falmouth  until  the  courts  were  stopped  by 
the  revolutionary  proceedings,  or  the  place  was 
destroyed  by  the  enemy  in  1776.  During  his  stay 
in  that  place,  he  was  zealously  engaged  in  arrest- 
ing the  progress  of  pettifoggers,  who  carried  on 
their  trade  with  great  success  at  that  time,  in  the 
province  of  Maine.  He  was  fully  sensible  that  the 
dignity  and  usefulness  of  the  profession  depended 
in  a  great  measure  upon  the  observance  of  strict 
rules  and  regulations  in  practice,  and  he  fearlessly 
made  a  struggle  against  popular  opinion,  to  put 
down  this  contemptible  class  of  men,  who  profess 
to  make  law  cheap,  while  they  only  instigate  suits, 
and  lead  clients  into  error,  and  frequently  to  ruin. 
He  wrote  upon  this  subject  to  his  friend  judge 
Tudor,  who  was  then,  though  very  young,  a  mem- 
ber of  the  legislature,  in  order  to  procure  the  inter- 
ference of  that  body  in  suppressing  their  practices  ; 
but  it  has  ever  been  found  that  no  law  can  reach  this 
class  of  men  :  and  that  nothing  but  the  progress  of 
good  sense  in  the  community  can  destroy  them. 

Parsons  returned  from  Falmouth  to  his  father's 
house  in  Byfield,  where  he  found   that  eminent 


43 

lawyer,  judge  Trowbridge,  who  had  left  Cam- 
bridge,  his  usual  place  of  residence,  haviug  resign- 
ed his  office  of  judge  of  the  Superior  Court,  soon 
after  the  battle  of  Lexington,  and  retired  from  the 
storm,  to  repose  for  a  while  at  Byfield.  Trow- 
bridge had  been  distinguished,  not  only  as  a  pro- 
found lawyer,  and  an  able  advocate,  but  as  a 
zealous  law  officer  for  government,  having  been 
attorney- general  for  some  time  before  he  ascended 
the  bench ;  but  when  he  saw  the  people  rise  in 
hostility,  his  courage  forsook  him,  and  he  fled 
from  the  confusion  around  him,  and  tried  to  shut 
his  eyes  to  what  was  going  on,  or  to  keep  the  din 
of  arms  from  disturbing  his  lucubrations.  He  was 
pursuing  his  legal  investigations  with  the  ardour  of 
youth,  and  must  have  felt  no  small  delight  in  hav- 
ing a  pupil^  or  an  associate  in  pursuing  this  course, 
possessing  the  knowledge  and  talents  of  Parsons. 
They  went  on  together  for  some  time  in  a  mansion 
of  peace  and  quietness,  where  no  warlike  foot  ever 
came  to  disturb  their  contemplations.  The  mind 
of  the  judge  had  reached  its  highest  powers,  and 
his  knowledge  was  extensive  and  mature.  Severe 
application  abstracted  his  attention  from  the  polit- 
ical world,  and  he  felt  the  highest  pleasure  in  pour- 
ing out  his  stores  in  profusion  upon  one  so  ready 
to  receive,  and  so  capable  of  appreciating  them. 


.** 


44 

When  the  courts  were  revived  in  1777,  Parsons 
opened  an  office  in  Newburyport,  where  he  soon 
became  conspicuous  as  a  lawyer.  This  town  was, 
at  that  time,  a  place  of  considerable  trade,  enter- 
prise, and  fashion  ;  and  formed,  as  he  then  sup- 
posed, a  sufficient  field  for  his  abilities  ;  but  in  this 
he  was  mistaken ;  such  a  man  should  have  com- 
menced in  the  capital. 

In  1777,  the  legislature  not  pleased  with  their 
situation  without  a  Constitution,  formed  one,  and 
sent  it  out  to  the  people  for  their  consideration, 
having  been  invested  with  powers  for  that  purpose 
by  their  constituents,  when  they  were  elected  to 
represent  them  in  the  legislature  ;  but  the  best  in- 
formed men  saw  in  it  gross  defects,  and  were  de- 
termined that  it  should  not  be  adopted.  Several 
towns  in  the  county  of  Essex  sent  delegates,  who 
met  at  Ipswich  to  consult  on  this  subject,  and  after 
several  adjournments,  the  famous  report  was  made, 
which  was  called  the  Essex  Result.  In  this 
report  they  discussed  the  question  with  great  abil- 
ity ;  pointed  out  the  errors  in  the  Constitution 
proposed  for  the  people,  and  fully  offered  their 
opinions  to  the  public  on  the  subject.  Parsons 
was  one  of  this  committee,  and  drafted  the  report ; 
in  some  things  he  was  controlled  by  the  other 
members,  and  would  not  avow  all  the  principles 


45 

advocated  in  this  result  as  his  own,  but  he  was  in 
fact  the  author  of  it.  This  production  contains  all 
the  principles  incorporated  in  the  best  constitutions 
of  government  to  be  found  in  our  united  Republic. 
In  this,  the  true  elements  of  a  republic  were  put 
into  a  reasonable  shape,  and  practical  form,  with- 
out any  of  those  revolting  eccentricities  and  fool- 
eries, which  are  so  often  mixed  up  with  the  first 
ebullitions  of  liberty.  The  style  of  this  production 
never  satisfied  its  author  j  he  attempted  to  exhibit 
these  important  principles  in  a  popular  manner,  that 
they  might  seize  the  feelings  of  the  people,  as  well 
as  to  convince  the  understandings  of  the  enlight- 
ened j  but  he  ever  after  felt  assured  that  his  talent 
did  not  lie  that  way.  He  was  made  to  forge  the 
massy  links  of  the  chain  of  reasoning,  to  bind  the 
understanding ;  but  never  could  file  and  burnish 
them  to  please  the  imagination  ;  yet  notwithstand- 
ing Parsons  did  not  satisfy  himself  in  the  style  of 
this  work,  no  one  ever  complained  of  it,  or  had 
cause  to  complain.  True  criticism  is  seldom  busy 
when  the  matter  is  sound,  and  the  subject  interest- 
ing. 

The  French  revolution  followed  our  indepen- 
dence so  soon,  and  the  French  in  their  enthusiasm 
caricatured  every  feature  of  liberty  so  hideously, 
and  put  at  defiance  every  thing  like  taste,  truth,  or 


46 

decency,  that  every  man  of  common  sense  began 
to  blush  for  himself,  in  thinking  that  he  had  ever 
indulged  in  romantic  visions  of  freedom.  Under 
the  depressing  restraint  of  despotic  power,  or  in 
the  enthusiasm  of  extravagant  or  licentious  liberty, 
we  seldom  find  a  pure,  chaste,  elevated,  and  manly 
style  of  writing.  The  regular  tone  is  lost,  and  the 
pulse  beats  too  quick,  or  too  slow,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  either. 

In  1779-80,  a  convention  of  delegates  from  the 
several  towns  in  the  commonwealth  met,  and  after 
much  discussion,  prepared  a  draft  of  the  present 
Constitution,  to  be  offered  to  the  people  for  their 
consideration  and  adoption.  In  this  body  he  was 
a  delegate  from  Newburyport,  and  had  no  small 
share  in  their  labours.  This  constitution  was  not 
exactly  what  was  wanted  to  suit  the  most  enlight- 
ened men  ;  but  on  the  whole  it  was  the  best  which 
could  be  obtained,  and  its  general  features  were 
not  very  displeasing  even  to  those  who  wished  to 
change  some  portion  of  them. 

After  the  close  of  the  revolutionary  struggle,  the 
Congress  of  the  confederate  states  dragged  on  a 
feeble  existence  ;  not  wanting  in  dignity  and  tal- 
ent, but  without  powers  suited  to  the  great  concerns 
of  the  nation.  The  immediate  pressure  was  gone 
which  had  given  authority  to  their  laws,  if  they 


47 

deserved  that  name.  The  states  were  jealous,  and 
reluctantly  yielded  to  their  control,  even  on  those 
subjects  which  could  not  be  managed  by  them  in- 
dividually. No  national  enterprise  or  prosperity 
could  be  expected  while  things  were  in  this  situa- 
tion, and  the  people  of  the  north  and  the  south  felt 
the  necessity  of  a  different  system  of  government. 
A  general  convention  was  called,  which  formed  a 
constitution,  and  submitted  it  to  the  several  states 
for  their  adoption.  The  convention  for  Massachu- 
setts assembled  at  Boston  in  1789.  A  great  mass 
of  talent  was  collected  in  this  body.  The  wise 
part  of  the  community  knew  that  the  people  had 
just  paused  from  the  labour  of  opposing  parliamen- 
tary oppression,  and  were  jealous  of  the  forms,  even 
of  wholesome  restraint.  Reason,  eloquence,  and 
management  were  put  in  requisition  to  enlighten  the 
dull,  secure  the  timid  and  wavering,  and  to  con- 
vince and  bring  over  the  obstinate.  Great  exer- 
tions were  made  to  elect  the  first  characters  in 
Massachusetts.  Dana,  Strong,  Cabot,  King, 
Ames,  and  a  host  of  distinguished  statesmen  were 
sent  to  this  convention,  for  the  question  was  con- 
sidered as  affecting  the  vital  interests  of  the  nation. 
The  eyes  of  the  world  were  on  the  Republic.  The 
lovers  of  aristocracy  and  monarchy  were  hoping, 
and  no  doubt,  were  fully  persuaded  that  the  people 


48 

had  not  suflBcient  discretion  or  virtue,  to  preserve 
the  rights  they  had  won,  and  that  all  would  he  lost 
in  factions  and  disorder.  Parsons  came  to  this 
body  with  solemn  apprehensions  of  failure,  but 
with  a  fixed  resolution  to  spare  nothing  to  obtain 
the  adoption  of  the  constitution.  Though  he  had 
laboured  but  little  for  fame,  and  never  courted 
popularity,  he  felt  it  necessary  to  use  every  fair 
mean  in  this  cause  ;  the  whole  stores  of  his  learn- 
ing, all  the  powers  of  his  mighty  mind  were  brought 
to  bear  on  the  question  ;  and  his  opponents  felt  the 
force  of  his  wit,  and  the  power  of  his  argument ; 
the  demagogue  shrunk  from  the  shafts  of  his  satire, 
and  the  obdurate  retreated  from  the  tremendous 
weight  of  his  blows.  He  did  more,  he  discovered 
the  doubts  of  the  feeble,  and  gently  removed  them  : 
he  sunk  the  proud  pre-eminence  of  genius,  in  his 
anxiety  for  success,  and  firmly  attached  to  his 
cause,  by  the  amenity  of  his  manners,  those  whom 
his  reasons  had  not  entirely  convinced.  An  anec- 
dote will  illustrate  this.  A  clergyman  in  the  con- 
vention, a  man  of  strong  puritanical  feelings  and 
habits,  was  opposed  to  the  proposed  constitution, 
because  he  saw  danger  in  giving  men  too  much 
power;  the  common  objection  made  to  it.  Par- 
sons, by  frequent  conversations  had  made  a  deep 
impression  on  his  mind,  and  he  was  yielding  to 


49 

the  arguments  against  his  fears  on  that  point,  when 
he  raised  another,  which  he  thought  no  one  could 
remove.  He  said  that  tliere  was  no  presiding 
angel  at  the  formation  of  this  instrument ;  it  could 
not  be  good,  for  the  name  of  Grod  was  not  in  it. 
Parsons  instantly  replied  that  such  an  argument 
would  go  too  far — so  fjir  as  to  destroy  the  authority 
of  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  those  books  in  the 
Bible  which  were  held  canonical ;  for  one  of  the 
books  of  the  Old  Testament  had  not  the  name  of 
Grod  in  it.  The  astonished  clergyman  said,  if  such 
a  book  could  be  shewn,  his  scruples  would  cer- 
tainly be  shaken  ;  but  asserted  that  no  such  book 
could  be  found.  He  was  requested  to  read  the 
book  of  Esther;  and  in  truth  the  name  of  God 
could  not  be  found  in  it,  directly,  or  by  any 
appellation  of  Grod- head.  This  is  told  to  shew 
the  influence  he  had  over  those  on  whom  he  fasten- 
ed. It  is  a  fact  too  well  known  to  repeat,  that 
only  by  great  exertions  of  the  enlightened  part  of 
the  convention  a  majority  was  obtained,  and  peace, 
happiness,  and  national  dignity  secured. 

In  this  convention  was  Rufus  King,  a  man  born 
for  distinction  in  any  course  he  might  have  pursu- 
ed ;  he  was  zealous  in  the  cause  of  rational  free- 
dom ;  and  his  splendid  speeches  are  remembered 
as  models  of  elocution.  This  was  the  only  man 
7 


50 

who  ever  stood  for  a  moment  as  the  rival  of  Par- 
sons in  his  own  neighbourhood.     King  had  been 
the  pupil  of  Parsons  ;   had  graduated  with  the 
reputation  of  a  man  of  sound  sense,  and  elevated 
genius  ;  and  had  sustained  and  increased  that  re- 
putation while  pursuing  his  law  studies  in  New- 
buryport.     On  his  admission  to  the  bar  he  began 
a  high  display  of  the  most  popular  talents.     His 
manners,  his  person,  his  eloquence,  and  above  all, 
his  desire  to  please,  aided  by  his  true  merits,  made 
him  the  idol  of  the  people.     Soon  after  his  admis- 
sion to  the  bar,  he  was  sent  a  representative  of  the 
town  to  the  legislature  of  the  commonwealth,  and 
from  that  body  was  chosen  a  delegate  to  Congress. 
From  King's  becoming  devoted  to  politics.  Par- 
SONS  seemed  to  be  destined  to  have  no  one  in  his 
way,  to  occupy  his  thoughts  for  a  moment.     Sen- 
sitive,  bold,  and  decisive.  King  was  formed  to  feel 
with  acuteness,  and  to  oppose  with  firmness  ;  but 
fortunately  the  collisions  of  Parsons  and  King,  if 
they  ever  had  any,  were  but  of  short  duration.     At 
that  time,  and  in  after  years,  these  gentlemen  re- 
spectively bore  testimony  to  each  other's  worth, 
and  defended  each  other's  reputation.     Greatness 
is  seldom  allied  to  meanness,  and  the  brightest  and 
wisest  of  mankind  rarely  harbour  feelings  of  per- 
manent jealousy  and  hatred.     The  high-minded 


51 

may  meet  in  the  storm,  and  be  brought  into  strife 
by  the  elements,  but  the  bow  of  peace  is  soon  seen 
in  the  heavens,  and  the  calm  sun-shine  follows. 

Parsons  continued  to  reside  in  Newburyport 
for  many  years  ;  but  his  business  in  the  courts 
kept  him  from  home  no  small  portion  of  his  time  ;  \ 
for  he  was  not  only  called  upon  professionally  in 
various  parts  of  this  commonwealth,  but  was  also 
engaged  in  many  important  causes  in  the  neigh- 
bouring states.  A  large  portion  of  his  relations 
and  connexions  lived  in  Boston,  and  they,  with  his 
other  friends,  prevailed  upon  him  to  leave  Nevv- 
buryport,  and  come  to  the  metropolis.  This  took 
place  in  the  year  1800.  Though  persuaded  that 
it  was  his  duty  to  change  his  residence,  yet  tin-ougli 
life  he  cherished  the  remembrance  of  the  place 
where  his  fame  had  taken  root,  and  grown,  and 
expanded  ;  for  there  his  first  patrons  lived  ;  there 
he  selected  the  partner  of  his  days,  and  there  his 
children  were  born.  In  Boston,  he  found  more 
men  of  congenial  minds,  and  sufficient  busiuess  of 
magnitude  and  profit,  and  it  became  unnecessary 
for  him  to  leave  the  town,  to  attend  the  courts  at  a 
distance.  This  removal  should  have  been  earlier. 
A  great  man  is  never  properly  at  home  in  a  small 
place  ;  the  larger  the  city,  the  more  certainty  there 
is  of  his  finding  a  just  appreciation  of  his  merits. 


52 

when  they  are  grown  to  maturity.  Had  Caesar 
ever  lived  in  a  village,  the  ambitious  remark  to  his 
friend  would  never  have  been  made  ;  had  he  known 
all  the  divisions,  heart-burning,  and  intrigues  of  a 
little  town,  he  would  not  have  preferred  being  first 
there,  to  being  second  at  Rome  ;  but  in  their  sev- 
eral callings  they  were  both  born  to  be  second  no 
where.  Old  friendships  are  necessary  for  the 
stock  part  of  the  enjoyments  of  life  ;  but  when  the 
circle  is  small,  we  soon  become  acquainted  with 
the  powers,  opinions,  and  dispositions  of  our  asso- 
ciates, and  want  something  new,  to  relieve  us  from 
lassitude,  or  to  enliven  a  dull  hour.  Where 
learning,  business,  and  amusement  are  found,  there 
is  the  place  to  improve  and  enjoy.  Parsons  prac- 
tised as  a  lawyer  in  Boston  for  six  years,  and  was 
engaged  in  most  causes  of  intricacy,  or  magnitude, 
at  tbe  terms  of  the  supreme  court  at  Suffolk  ;  but 
he  would  have  found  sufficient  employment  at  his 
chambers,  without  ever  attending  a  court,  for  mer- 
chants, lawyers,  and  statesmen  crowded  his  rooms, 
for  advice  and  direction. 

In  1806,  chief  justice  Dana,  oppressed  by  the 
infirmities  of  age,  resigned  his  office,  and  every 
eye  was  turned  on  Parsons  as  his  successor.  The 
judges  were  anxious  to  profit  by  his  profound 
knowledge  of  the  law,  and  the  whole  community 


53 

were  desirous  to  see  him  at  the  head  of  the  judi- 
ciary ;  but  it  was  a  question  among  those  who 
most  earnestly  wished  to  see  him  chief  justice,  if 
he  ought  to  be  urged  to  quit  his  profession,  when 
it  was  so  lucrative,  and  make  such  an  immense 
sacrifice  to  the  public.  His  income  might  have 
been,  without  extravagant  charges,  from  six  to  ten 
thousand  dollars  a  year,  and  the  chief  justice  re- 
ceived then  but  twenty-five  hundred  dollars  a  year, 
a  very  scanty  compensation  for  such  men  as  filled 
the  bench  at  that  time.  Grovernor  Strong  nomi- 
nated him,  though  rather  doubtful  of  his  accept- 
ance of  the  office  ;  but  he  did  accept  it,  and  ad- 
dressed a  letter  to  his  Excellency,  full  of  unan- 
swerable arguments,  for  increasing  the  salary  of 
the  judges.  Every  sentence  of  this  letter  was 
marked  with  modesty,  and  independence.  The 
Grovernor,  in  his  speech  to  the  legislature,  made 
on  the  21st  of  June,  1806,  recommended  the  argu- 
ments in  this  letter  to  the  attention  of  that  body,  as 
giving  his  own  views  on  the  subject  of  a.  permanent 
and  respectable  compensation  to  the  judges  of  the 
supreme  judicial  court ;  and  much  to  the  lasting 
honour  of  the  legislature  of  that  year,  the  salaries 
were  raised  to  the  present  establishment.  In  this 
appointment  the  public  expectations  were  fully 
realized,  for  he  was  the  pride  and  boast  of  every 


/ 


54 

enlightened,  unprejudiced  man  in  the  common, 
wealth,  until  his  death,  which  happened  in  October, 
1813.  His  health  had  been  declining  for  some 
time,  yet  he  continued  to  be  active  and  laborious 
in  his  office,  until  within  a  few  mouths  of  his  death. 
This  event  was  felt  as  a  general  calamity  ;  the  bar 
throughout  New  England  deplored  the  loss  of  this 
great  master  in  the  profession,  and  the  learned 
bench  of  judges  mourned  the  extinguishment  of  the 
brightest  luminary  in  the  temple  of  justice.  His 
associates,  judges  Sewall  and  Parker  pronounc- 
ed eulogies  upon  their  friend  and  brother,  and 
the  people  sincerely  sympathized  with  them  in 
the  irreparable  loss  the  community  had  sustained. 
What  Sewall  said,  I  believe,  is  not  in  print, 
except  in  the  newspapers  ;  but  Parker's  eulogy  is 
to  be  found  in  a  volume  of  the  Reports  of  the 
court,  as  well  as  in  a  pamphlet.  The  production 
is  a  chaste,  appropriate,  and  discriminating  sketch 
of  the  character  of  a  man,  whose  eulogy  could 
hardly  be  made  extravagant. 

That  independence  of  character,  which  arises 
from  talents,  and  a  consciousness  of  being  able  by 
the  exercise  of  them  to  be,  at  all  times,  and,  in 
every  place,  raised  above  pecuniary  evils,  is  per- 
haps  not  rare  ;  but  then  this  firmness,  and  elevation 
of  soul  is  frequently  aflfected,  and  its  fine  displays 


55 

lost  by  the  situation  of  connexions  and  friends ; 
and  sometimes  by  the  goodness  of  disposition  at- 
tendant on  this  very  spirit  of  independence.    Most 
men,  however  brave,  feel  an  unwillingness  to  con- 
tend  with  powerful  coteries,  whose  friendly  opin- 
ions, if  not  absolutely  necessary  to  success,  are 
certainly  convenient  to  advancement  and   distinc- 
tion.      Most  men,    however   well    armed,    would 
prefer   a   passport  for  travelling   on   an  old  and 
guarded  way,  to  cutting  a  path  for  themselves.     It 
is  natural  for  us  to  lean  on  one  another,  to  save  the 
pain  or  the  dread   of  standing  alone ;  but  when 
Parsons  commenced  life,  it  was  a  singularly  for- 
tunate moment  for  such  a  man  to  carve  out  his  own 
course,  and  freely,   and  independently  to  pursue 
it ;  and  never  did  a  man  do  it  more  successfully. 
The  revolution  had  changed  the  manners,  habits, 
feelings,  and  the  opinions  of  the  people  ;  and  such 
a  man,  active,  intelligent,  and  confident,  gave  im- 
pressions to  society  from  his  own  modes  of  think- 
ing ;  directed   the  course  to  be  pursued,  and  was 
seldom  biassed  by  the  opinions  of  others,  or  rarely 
followed  when  they  led.     The  influence  of  intel- 
lect is  always  great  in  every  community,  but  never 
more  so  than  when  the  people  are  in  difiBculty, 
when  things   are  in  an  unsettled   state,  and  the 
social  compact  is  but  on  trial.     He  never  made  the 


'rlP 


.-   ; 


56 

least  struggle  for  popularity,  for  he  had  no  little 
ambitious  calculations.  The  pomp  and  pride  of 
ofl&ce  had  no  charms  for  him  ;  indeed  it  was  higher 
play  to  direct  those  who  held  them,  than  to  go 
through  the  drudgery  of  them  himself.  Always 
sure  of  the  first  business  in  his  profession  to  the 
full  extent  of  his  wishes,  aud  having  no  avaricious 
feelings  to  gratify,  or  speculations  to  pursue,  there 
could  be  no  necessity  for  him  to  court  the  wealthy 
and  the  proud,  and  he  had  no  wish  to  trample  on 
the  poor  and  humble  ;  hence  he  was  in  truth  one 
of  the  most  independent  men  that  ever  lived.  To 
analyze  a  mind  like  his,  would  require  more  labour 
than  the  writer  of  this  sketch  can  bestow,  but  there 
were  some  traits  in  his  character  too  conspicuous  to 
be  noticed  only  by  general  remarks.  His  memory 
was  wonderfully  tenacious.  All  the  elementary  or 
light  readings  of  his  childhood ;  the  studies  of 
youth  aud  manhood,  and  the  researches  of  his 
graver  years  were,  to  the  last  of  his  life,  fresh  in 
his  recollection.  Dates,  which  seem  difficult  to 
keep  in  mind,  the  most  uncouth  names  of  persons, 
or  places,  and  the  most  trivial  epitaph,  and  even 
common  remarks  in  conversation,  were  remember- 
ed by  him  with  such  accuracy,  that  one  would 
have  thought  that  he  found  it  impossible  to  forget 
any  thing  he  had  ever  seen,  heard,  or  read.     His 


57 

memory  was  not  of  that  desultory  sort,  which  is 
sometimes  found  where  the  judgment  is  feeble — a 
simple  power  to  retain  without  the  faculty  of  classi- 
fication, or  arrangement ;  but  in  the  store- house  of 
his  memory,  every  thing,  however  small,  was  laid 
up  in  proper  order.  He  seemed  to  have  the  same 
control  over  his  thoughts,  that  a  disciplinarian  has 
over  his  men  ;  they  came,  retired,  concentrated, 
or  scattered,  were  condensed  in  column,  or  extend- 
ed in  line  at  his  bidding.  To  the  inequality  of  the 
power  of  fixing  the  mind  on  a  subject  offered  for 
consideration,  and  in  embodying  and  arranging  the 
thoughts  upon  it  may  be  attributed,  more  than 
to  any  other  cause,  the  intellectual  differences 
among  men.  On  all  questions,  even  the  most  in- 
tricate, he  had  such  a  rapid  and  intense  concentra- 
tion of  thought,  that  there  was  an  air  of  sudden- 
ness in  his  most  sound  and  well  matured  opinions ; 
but  the  appositeness  of  his  remarks,  and  the  just- 
ness of  his  decisions,  evinced  the  spirit  of  deep 
reflection,  or  of  intuition.  His  imagination  was 
sometimes  warm,  and  always  prolific  ;  and  at  times, 
in  his  youth,  like  Mansfield,  Blaekstone,  and  other 
great  lawyers,  he  felt  and  avowed  the  influences 
of  the  muses  ;  but  his  taste  led  him  rather  to  laugh 
at  folly,  and  satirize  superstition,  than  to  indulge 
in  the  plaintive  and  sentimental.  That  he  was  not 
8 


58 

a  poet  of  liigh  order,  was  not  for  want  of  genius, 
or  taste ;  but  poetry  was  incompatible  with  his 
professional  pursuits.  The  rose  will  not  flourish 
where  the  oak  is  planted  and  growing  ;  and  on  the 
soil  where  flowers  spring  spontaneously,  the  honey- 
suckle and  the  woodbine  must  be  trodden  down 
and  grubbed  up,  if  the  husbandman  makes  judi- 
cious calculations  for  a  harvest.  His  readiness  of 
conception,  his  power  of  retention,  and  his  ardour 
and  perseverance  in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge, 
made  him  one  of  the  most  learned  men  of  his  time. 
To  those  around  him  his  acquirements  seemed 
prodigious ;  other  men  they  could  measure  and 
survey  their  intellectual  dimensions,  but  his  eleva- 
tion was  to  them  inapproachable  and  immeasura- 
ble ;  but  the  proportions  of  any  man  can  easily  be 
ascertained  when  he  is  dead,  for  he  is  found  at 
last  to  be  mortal,  and  cannot  have  been  so  much 
beyond  others,  as  when  living,  he  may  have 
seemed  to  be. 

In  the  science  of  the  law  he  was  deeply  versed. 
He  had  read  with  attention  and  retained  with 
accuracy  all  the  legal  learning  to  be  found  in  Eng- 
lish and  French  authors  ;  and  he  had  gone  further 
and  caught  the  manners,  the  customs  of  his  own 
country,  and  blended  them  with  the  common  law 
authorities.     He  knew  more  of  what  might  be  de- 


59 

nomiaated  New  England  law,  than  any  other  man.' 
In  early  life  he  analyzed  the  principles  of  special 
pleading,  and  made  himself  master  of  all  its  rules  ; 
and  he  often  remarked  that  a  dull  man  could  learn 
its  technicalities,  but  it  was  a  proof  of  a  logical 
mind  to  be  well  acquainted  with  the  true  spirit  of 
this  concise,  forcible,  and  accurate  mode  of  reason- 
ing. His  contemporaries  speak  of  him  as  the  pro- 
foundest  mathematician  of  his  age.  This  remark 
can  only  be  true,  when  confined  to  men  not  pro- 
fessedly engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  this  science. 
He  was  remarkably  fond  of  that  study,  and  pursu- 
ed it  for  the  delight  and  satisfaction  it  aiforded. 
That  process  which  carries  the  mind  beyond  the 
common  things  of  life,  gives  a  serenity  and  eleva- 
tion to  the  soul,  inconceivable  to  those  who  are 
engaged  only  with  its  ordinary  business.  Whoever 
discovers  a  new  track,  or  extends  a  beaten  one,  is 
happy,  whether  it  be  in  the  moral  or  natural  world. 
There  was  as  much  to  delight  the  imagination  in 
the  pursuits  of  Newton  and  Laplace,  as  in  the 
studies  of  Dryden  and  Milton.  In  fact,  more  un- 
alloyed pleasure  can  be  found  in  contemplations  on 
nature  and  her  laws,  than  on  morals  and  men.  In 
nature,  every  thing  is  perfect,  though  frequently 
mysterious,  but  in  the  moral  world  there  are  many 
evils  to  deplore.     One  of  the  first  mathematicians 


60 

of  this  country,  who  had  long  been  intimate  with 
Parsons,  has  said,  that  bis  friends  were  deceived 
in  the  extent  of  bis  pursuits,  but  that  his  genius 
for  this  science  was  of  the  highest  order.  He  was 
always  fond  of  classical  studies,  and  had  a  most 
extensive  acquaintance  with  literature  in  general. 
He  read  history  with  great  attention,  as  important 
in  connexion  with  his  profession.  At  the  age  of 
forty-five,  he  renewed  his  attention  to  the  lan- 
guages, particularly  the  Greek,  as  it  is  said,  for  the 
purpose  of  interesting  his  eldest  son  in  this  study 
while  preparing  to  enter  college  ;  and  he  continued 
his  partiality  for  this  most  beautiful  and  philosoph- 
ical of  all  languages  through  life.  He  commenced 
a  correspondence  on  Greek  literature  with  a  learned 
Professor  in  Europe,  and  quite  charmed  him  by 
his  profound  remarks  on  that  language.  Indeed, 
Greek  was  almost  vernacular  to  him,  for  at  seven 
or  eight  years  of  age  he  could  read  the  Greek  Tes- 
tament with  ease.  He  studied  it,  however,  before 
he  did  the  Latin,  for  his  father,  who  was  an  excel- 
lent Greek  schular,  thought  it  should  be  acquired 
first.  I  have  often  heard  several  learned  teachers 
of  youth  say,  that  Parsons  knew  more  of  the  phi- 
losophy  of  grammar,  than  they  believed  any  one 
could  have  acquired,  unless  he  had  made  it  a 
favourite  study  for  years. 


61 

When  Tooke's  Diversions  of  Parley  first  ap- 
peared, he  read  the  book  with  the  same  delight  as 
he  would  have  perused  a  spirited  novel.  To  one 
so  well  grounded  in  the  nature  and  principles  of 
general  grammar,  no  particular  language  could  be 
of  difficult  attainment.  He  made  himself  acquaint- 
ed with  the  Hebrew  to  search  the  scriptures,  and 
French  was  indispensable,  as  the  means  of  reach- 
ing the  immense  stores  of  modern  learning  in  every 
branch  of  knowledge. 

When  he  came  to  the  bar,  it  was  a  period  of 
glorious  uncertainty  in  matters  of  law.  Principles 
of  practice  were  but  loosely  settled  by  the  court, 
and  in  fact  they  had  but  few  books  of  Reports  to 
assist  them,  or  rules  to  guide  them,  but  such  as 
existed  in  their  scanty  minutes,  and  their  memo-, 
ries  ;  and  in  such  a  state  of  things  uniformity  and 
accuracy  could  not  always  be  expected.  In  every 
case  of  importance,  all  was  thought  to  depend  on 
the  learning,  sagacity,  cunning,  and  eloquence  of 
counsel.  It  would  have  been  in  vain  for  any  one 
man  to  have  attempted  a  reformation,  for  most 
practitioners  at  that  period,  would  have  united 
against  a  change,  from  the  mistaken  idea,  that 
business  depended  on  giving  an  air  of  mystery  to 
the  proceedings  of  the  profession  ;  forgetting,  that 
no  science,  however  difficult  to  attain,  has   any 


62 

mystery  in  its  farthest  researches,  or  ia  its  remotest 
principles.  It  can  hardly  be  believed  at  this  day, 
but  it  is  a  fact,  that  many  old  lawyers  who  were 
in  full  practice  when  Blackstone's  Commentaries 
first  appeared  in  this  country,  were  frequently 
heard  to  regret  and  complain  that  he  should  have 
so  simplified  and  arranged  his  subject,  and  so 
clearly  explained  the  principles  of  law,  that  the 
same  amount  of  knowledge  which  had  cost  them 
years  to  collect,  might  be  obtained  in  a  short  time. 
They  were  as  much  alarmed  for  fear  of  making 
law  cheap,  as  the  alchymists  were  of  making  the 
secrets  of  nature  common,  when  the  philosophers 
of  England  and  France  scattered  the  mysteries  of 
the  alembic,  by  giving  to  the  world  the  result  of 
their  experiments.  He  possessed  rare  qualities 
for  his  profession,  had  he  lived  at  any  period  of  its 
progress,  but  the  time  at  which  he  commenced 
business  afforded  the  widest  and  fairest  field  for  the 
exercise  of  his  powers.  Great  latitude  was  then 
allowed  in  forensic  discussions,  and  he  was  armed 
at  all  points  for  the  contest.  To  learning,  deep 
and  extensive,  he  added  a  quickness  of  comprehen- 
sion, that  penetrated  every  thing  at  a  glance  ;  a 
boldness  and  hardihood  that  nothing  could  appal, 
and  a  flow  of  wit  tliat  turned  whatever  he  pleased 
to  ridicule.     He  sometimes   exploded   his   oppo- 


63 

nent's  arguments  by  raising  the  laugh,  and  some- 
times attacked  them  by  sarcasm  which  cut  to  the 
heart.  Still  there  was  nothing  malevolent  in  his 
disposition  ;  but  it  is  hard  to  have  a  giant's 
strength,  and  not  at  moments  to  use  it  as  tyranni- 
cally as  a  giant.  Often  he  showed  the  rack,  and 
extended  his  adversary  on  the  wheel,  when  he  did 
not  intend  to  stretch  a  sinew,  or  break  a  joint. 

He  was  a  forcible  and  powerful  speaker,  not 
that  his  tones  were  mellifluous,  or  his  gestures 
graceful,  but  his  was  the  eloquence  of  reason.  His 
arguments  were  terse  and  condensed,  full  and 
illustrative,  pointed,  cutting,  and  sarcastic  ;  or 
conciliatory,  amusing,  and  gentle,  all  as  he  chose, 
or  as  suited  his  subject  or  his  audience.  He  was, 
in  early  life,  frequently  employed  as  counsel  in 
capital  cases,  and  was  always  selected  by  the 
prisoner  when  he  could  be  obtained. 

In  1784,  he  was  counsel  for  several  men  charged 
with  piracy,  and  exhibited  such  learning,  skill, 
and  ingenuity,  as  perplexed  the  Court  on  a  ques- 
tion of  law,  and  saved  the  men  from  the  gallows. 
This  case  was  much  talked  of  at  the  time,  but  the 
precise  points  in  it,  I  have  not  been  able  to  ascer- 
tain. To  give  an  account  of  all  the  excellent  or 
ingenious  arguments  he  delivered,  would  be  noth- 
ing less   than   a  history  of  numerous  courts,  for 


64 

nearly  forty  years  previous  to  his  death.  I  re- 
member several  speeches  of  his,  but  one  more  par- 
ticularly than  others,  as  the  cause  made  consider- 
able noise  in  the  county  of  Essex. 

At  the  November  term,  1805,  held  at  Salem,  a 
gentleman  of  some  distinction  in  the  political  world 
was  tried,  with  several  of  his  dependants,  for  a 
riot.  The  cause  had  been  given  to  a  jury  once 
before,  which  did  not  agree  on  a  verdict.  It  was 
feared,  and  not  without  cause,  that  justice  might  a 
second  time  be  strangled  in  the  rancour  of  party 
feelings.  The  attorney-general  was  unwell,  the 
solicitor-general  absent,  and  it  was  thought  proper 
by  the  Court  that  the  trial  should  proceed,  and 
indeed  the  defendants  were  eager  for  it.  After 
some  consultation,  the  Court  appointed  Parsons 
and  Jackson  to  act  for  the  government.  The 
cause  was  opened  by  Jackson,  now  one  of  the 
supreme  judges,  but  he  did  not  make  much  effort 
in  it,  as  he  thought  it  was  a  plain  case  of  riot,  and 
that  the  defendants  were  proved  to  be  in  it,  and 
without  excuse.  Dexter  was  counsel  for  the 
defendants  ;  his  fees  were  large  ;  the  cause  one 
which  excited  great  interest ;  and  above  all.  Par- 
sons was  against  him,  out  of  the  common  course. 
Dexter  exerted  himself  in  the  examination  of  the 
witnesses,  and  in  the  argument ;  and  in  fact  it  was 


63 

a  most  powerful  defence  ;  his  utmost  subtlety,  and 
his  liighest  powers  of  eloquence  and  reasoning 
were  burnished  up  for  the  occasion.  It  was  a  fine 
specimen  of  boldness,  acuteness,  and  management. 
Parsons  closed  on  the  part  of  government,  in  one 
of  his  happiest  displays  of  impressive  speaking, 
and  legal  disquisition ;  his  zeal,  and  his  pride 
were  in  the  cause,  and  his  speech  was  felt  like 
electricity.  Every  thing  seemed  to  yield  to  the  re- 
sistless torrent  of  his  reasoning ;  but  the  obstinacy 
of  party  spirit,  which  is  rarely  conquered  by  wit, 
eloquence,  or  demonstration,  caused  insuperable 
difficulties  with  the  jury,  and  they  returned  jnto 
Court  without  agreeing.  The  friends  of  the  gen- 
tleman charged  with  the  misdemeanor,  had  the 
magnanimity  to  say,  that  the  argument  of  Parsons 
was  never  surpassed. 

When  he  came  to  the  bench,  there  had  been 
much  done,  but  still  there  was  much  left  to  do, 
and  he  set  about  making  a  thorough  reform.  The 
docket  was  crowded  with  cases,  for  the  business 
then  was  great  and  increasing,  and  the  methods  of 
despatching  it  rather  slow.  The  arrangement  of 
holding  Nisi  Prius  terms  had  but  just  got  into 
operation,  and  all  the  beneficial  effects  of  such  an 
alteration  were  not  yet  known.  He  shrunk  from 
no  labour,  however  severe,  to  finish  the  business 
9 


66 

of  the  term;  and  roused  parties  and  counsel  to 
extraordinary  exertions  of  vigilance  and  punctual- 
ity. At  all  times  he  went  on  with  such  rapidity, 
that  he  excited  the  murmurs  of  counsel  and  clients  ; 
but  on  the  whole,  the  good  effects  of  this  new  course 
were  seen  and  acknowledged  by  most  people  who 
had  any  thing  to  do  with  courts  of  justice.  The 
Court,  although  they  were  high-minded  and  learn- 
ed men,  and  were  nobly  struggling  for  reform,  had 
not  been  entirely  purged  of  the  old  leaven  of  re- 
spect for  persons.  Names  had  still  great  weight 
with  them ;  and  a  client  was  obliged  to  consider 
as  much  how  his  counsel  stood  with  the  Court,  as 
he  did  the  justice  of  the  cause  ;  but  at  the  approach 
of  Parsons,  the  influence  of  names,  and  of  senior- 
ity, sunk  and  died  away ;  and  every  lawyer  who 
discovered  learning,  attention  to  his  cause,  and 
industry,  ingenuity,  and  fairness  in  advocating  it, 
was  certain  of  an  impartial  trial.  He  knew  nothing 
of  the  witchcraft  of  names.  The  jury  had  the 
cause  from  him,  and  he  directed  the  course  of  rea- 
soning they  should  pursue,  not  like  one  of  those 
little  minds  which  shows  not  the  power  of  the  ar- 
gumeut,  but  the  influence  of  the  man  who  made  it. 
He  took  a  pride  in  bringing  forward  merit  found 
in  any  honest  form,  and  was  indulgent  even  to 
imbecility  and  ignorance,  if  he  thought  tliey  pro- 


67 

ceeded  from  incapacity,  and  not  from  idleness. 
Tlie  sins  of  indolence  and  negligence,  were  with 
him  forever  unpardonable,  and  he  exposed  the 
listless  and  careless,  but  always  threw  his  mighty 
shield  before  the  feeble  and  oppressed,  to  protect 
and  save  them. 

While  be  was  chief  justice,  which  was  from 
May,  1806,  to  October,  1813,  tbere  were  probably 
more  causes  tried  in  the  supreme  judicial  court, 
than  there  had  been  for  the  same  number  of  years 
at  any  period  of  our  history.     In  addition  to  the 
business  of  the  Court  in  the  trials  of  fact,  the  law 
terms  must  have  absorbed   a  great  portion  of  the 
time  of  the  judges.   The  reports  of  cases  heard  and 
argued  at  these  terms  during  the  time  he  was  chief 
justice,  fill  more  than  eight  volumes,  of  five  hun- 
dred pages  each.     On  the  share  he  had  in  settling 
and  declaring  the  law  of  the  land,  he  seemed  wil- 
ling to  rest  his  fame,  for  he  has  left  but  little  else  in 
print.     These  legal  opinions  are  an  imperishable 
memorial ;  a  monument  more  durable  than  brass, 
erected  on  a  basis  that  no  changes  in   the  civil 
world,  or  convulsions  in  the  political,  can  ever  de- 
face or  destroy.   The  stains  of  blood  on  the  warrior's 
sword  soon  turn  to  rust,  and  his  laurels,  if  they  do 
not  wither,  are  in  a  short  time  shaded  and  hidden 
by  many  rising  plumes  ;  but  the  intellectual  influ- 


68 

ence  of  a  great  mind  spreads  over  the  moral  or 
legal  page,  when  it  becomes  suflBciently  distin- 
guished to  be  a  standard  in  morals,  or  considered 
as  authority  in  the  courts.  The  moral  and  legal 
labours  of  Montesquieu,  Paley,  Burke,  Mansfield, 
Parsons,  and  others  are  perennial  sources  of  wis- 
dom and  knowledge — fountains  which  constantly 
refresh  us  with  sweet  and  living  waters. 

He  was  a  politician  of  extensive  and  bold  views  ; 
careful  in  fixing  principles,  but  when  they  were 
established,  fearless  of  their  consequences.  He 
was  also  a  consistent  statesman.  It  is  true  that 
he  turned  with  disgust  and  abhorrence  from  the 
mawkish  and  wicked  forms  in  which  liberty  was 
exhibited,  when  the  most  accursed  ambition  was 
concealed  by  apparent  humility,  and  the  dagger  of 
Cataline  was  hid  under  the  robes  of  a  tatterdema- 
lion. When  his  political  opponents  were  full  of 
clamour,  and  violence,  at  what  they  thought  his 
aristocratical  sentiments,  if  they  had  been  asked  to 
point  out  a  principle  that  he  ever  strove  to  estab- 
lish  that  was  not  built  on  pure  republican  notions, 
where  could  they  have  found  it  ?  Do  his  early 
labours  shew  any  thing  that  is  not  such  as  all  men 
in  this  country  would  be  proud  to  own  ?  Did  he 
ever  in  the  latter  part  of  his  life  oppose  that  which 
in  the  former  part  of  it,  he  had  assisted  to  estab- 


69 

lish  ?  No  :  his  principles  were  the  same,  though 
his  estimate  of  particular  men  and  measures  might 
have  changed. 

Soon  after  his  acceptance  of  the  office  of  judge, 
he  came  to  his  native  county  of  Essex,  to  hold  a 
Court,  and  there,  in  his  charge  to  the  grand  jurors, 
he  took  occasion  to  develope  the  nature  of  our  re- 
publican institutions,  which  had  grown  with  our 
growth,  and  strengthened  with  our  strength ;  and 
declared  if  he  knew  his  own  heart,  that  he  had 
ever  loved  and  cherished  them  as  invaluable.  If 
he  had  ever  possessed  the  disposition  to  pull  down 
these  recent  establishments,  could  he  not  in  his 
native  state  have  done  incalculable  mischief,  and 
like  the  strong  man,  have  torn  up  and  carried  off 
what  portion  of  the  citadel  he  chose.  In  the 
darkest  hours  of  our  political  history  he  never  des- 
paired, for  he  believed  that  there  was  a  redeeming 
spirit  in  the  people,  and  that  all  things  would  come 
right.  He  slept  in  quiet,  when  many  of  his  polit- 
ical friends  were  filled  with  dreams  of  horror,  and 
their  imaginations  created  evils  more  numerous  and 
dreadful  than  mortal  tongue  could  disclose.  It 
would  be  extraordinary,  if  the  opinions  of  a  distin- 
guished public  man,  through  more  than  forty  years 
of  active  life,  could  all  be  defended  as  sound  and 
judicious  ;   but  the  writer  hazards  nothing  in  say- 


70 

ing,  that  no  opinioD  Parsons  ever  held  forth  to  the 
community,  will  be  founi]  to  be  corrupt ;  and  he 
believes  that  but  few  that  he  gave  will  ever  be 
shaken.  His  sympathies  were  strong,  but  his 
feelings  were  under  perfect  control.  He  had  none 
of  that  coldness  and  indifference  which  possess 
the  hearts  of  many  whom  the  world  call  great 
men,  whose  intellectual  light  is  like  the  sun-shine 
upon  the  Grlaciers,  brilliant  and  beautiful  to  distant 
vision,  but  which  has  neither  warmth  nor  life  in  it, 
and  which  freezes  the  blood  when  approached.  I 
have  often  heard  the  most  humble  of  the  people  in 
his  neighbourhood  speak  of  his  kindness  to  them 
when  in  difficulties.  If  they  and  their  cause  were 
honest,  he  never  delayed  giving  assistance  until  he 
could  calculate  the  chances  of  remuneration  for  his 
services.  To  people  in  the  common  walks  of  life 
who  made  no  appeals  to  his  charity,  his  charges 
for  services  were,  at  least,  as  reasonable  as  those 
of  ordinary  men  in  his  profession.  He  was  also 
through  life  the  champion  of  the  clergy,  and  when 
any  one  of  them  had  the  misfortune  to  be  a  party 
to  a  suit  in  Court,  whether  he  was  rigid  or  liberal 
in  his  sentiments.  Parsons  was  ready  to  be  his 
advocate,  and  although  he  assisted  many,  never 
was  known  to  take  a  fee  for  advice  or  argument 
from  a  minister  of  the  gospel. 


71 

The  nil  admirari,  which  is  so  often  considered 
as  the  motto  of  great  men,  he  never  affected  to  wear 
as  his  ;  but  was  always  ready  to  admire  and  praise 
such  works  of  learning,  taste,  and  genius,  as  his 
good  sense  pronounced  worthy  of  public  notice 
and  esteem,  regardless  of  the  doubts  of  those  who 
acted  as  critics,  or  without  waiting  to  catch  the 
popular  opinion  of  their  merits.  The  poets  and 
novelists  of  the  present  day,  Byron,  Scott,  and 
others,  whose  reputations  were  for  a  long  time 
doubtful — the  young  praising  them  without  mea- 
sure or  reason,  and  many  of  the  graver  sort  abus- 
ing them  with  even  more  disregard  to  truth,  were 
read  by  him,  and  criticised  with  a  prophetic  cor- 
rectness. He  saw  the  excellencies  and  defects  of 
those  masters,  almost  as  soon  as  they  appeared, 
while  they  were  yet  in  the  dawn  and  youth  of  their 
fame.  Although  the  gold  was  surrounded  by  base 
metals,  he  knew  its  fineness  from  the  specimens  he 
had  examined,  and  could  judge  of  the  richness  of 
the  mine  from  whence  it  came.  If  he  was  ever 
severe  in  his  criticisms,  it  was  on  the  productions 
of  wicked  wits,  and  false  philosophers,  whose  aim 
and  interest  were  to  mislead  and  destroy.  He 
hated  the  whole  tribe  of  those  declaimers  vvho 
broke  down  the  old  distinctions  between  virtue  and 
vice,  and  endeavoured  to  lead  young  and  tender 


72 

minds  from  the  paths  of  labour  and  virtue,  to  idle- 
ness  and  profligacy.  In  recommending  books  to 
guide  the  young  to  habits  of  industry  and  virtue, 
be  generally  selected  those  of  a  sound  and  robust 
philosophy,  and  those  least  connected  with  the 
cant  of  infidelity.  He  never  doubted  the  progress 
of  knowledge,  or  questioned  the  march  of  the  hu- 
man mind  towards  a  higher,  and  purer  moral  and 
political  elevation ;  but  he  never  was  allured  by 
the  dreams  of  Condorcet,  or  ever  substituted  reason 
for  Deity,  or  chance  for  Divine  Providence.  A 
firm  believer  in  the  Christian  religion,  he  lived 
long  enough  to  see  the  race  of  sciolists  and  blas- 
phemers despoiled  of  their  false  glory,  outcast, 
trodden  under  foot,  and  swept  away — long  enough 
to  hail  the  commencement,  and  mark  the  exten- 
sion of  a  higher  system  of  ethics,  and  a  holier  reli- 
gion than  had  ever  been  cherished ;  a  system 
equally  free  from  the  narrowness,  bigotry,  and 
corruption  of  early  opinions,  and  the  latitudinarian 
principles,  and  unhallowed  spirit  of  the  philosophy 
just  gone  by.  As  he  approached  the  confines  of 
old  age,  his  fondness  for  mathematics  and  divinity 
increased.  The  pure  sciences  are  rays  of  light 
emanating  from  divine  intelligence,  which  the 
human  mind  can  see  only  in  refractions  and  reflec- 
tions after  they  have  fallen  upon  the  earth ;   but 


73 

still,  man  is  elevated  aud  purified  by  the  illumina- 
tion around  him.  Frequent  contemplations  on 
these  subjects  places  him  as  it  were  in  the  presence 
of  his  Maker,  secures  his  faith  in  the  promises 
of  revelation,  and  takes  away  all  the  darkness  from 
the  grave.  How  delightful  is  such  a  preparation 
for  eternity,  compared  with  that  we  too  often  wit- 
ness— gray- headed  avarice  holding  with  fiercer 
grasp  a  farthing  filched  from  penury < — aged  vanity 
panting  and  struggling,  and  lavishing  his  stores,  to 
gain  another  shout,  and  one  more  hosanna  from 
the  mob,  before  all  is  silent  forever :  or  decrepid 
ambition  blowing  his  ineffectual  fires  to  raise  him- 
i^elf  one  more  earthly  step  before  he  totters,  falls, 
and  everlastingly  perishes.  His  pursuits,  whatever 
they  were,  never  made  him  dull  or  tame  ;  there 
was  at  all  times  a  readiness  and  freshness  about 
his  intellectual  faculties  that  was  peculiar  to  him- 
self. Towards  the  close  of  a  long,  uninteresting 
and  dull  speech  of  counsel,  when  almost  every 
other  person  was  regardless  of  what  was  said,  he 
was  still  attentive,  and  would  recollect  the  whole 
course  of  the  argument,  as  if  he  had  been  listening 
to  the  most  delightful  lecture. 

An  inordinate  love  of  wit  is  often  a  concomitant 
of  genius.     The  Greek  writers  abound  in  antithe- 
sis ;  Cicero  frequently  made  an  attempt  at  wit,  and 
10 


74 

fthakspeare,  io  his  loftiest  flights  of  imagination, 
left  the  celestial  elevation,  to  "chase  a  quibble,  or 
run  down  a  pun."  Parsons  was  loved  and  dread- 
ed as  a  wit.  It  sparkled  in  bis  conversation,  en- 
tered into  his  arguments  at  the  bar,  and  his  remarks 
upon  the  bench,  but  was  entirely  excluded  in  his 
solemn  discussions.  No  one  could  conjecture  from 
his  written  opinions  in  the  Reports,  that  he  ever 
indulged  tliis  propensity  for  amusement.  But  few 
men  ever  succeeded  so  well  in  repartee,  in  pointed 
remarks,  or  in  playful  allusion.  His  fine  sayings 
as  a  wit,  if  collected,  would  make  a  volume,  which 
might  be  compared  with  the  Footeiana  ;  but  this 
collection  will  never  be  made  ;  our  Johnsons  have 
no  Boswells. 

Parsons  was  a  man  of  large  size,  five  feet  and 
eleven  inches  high,  broad,  and  corpulent ;  his 
appearance  heavy,  yet  dignified.  The  features 
and  muscles  of  his  face  were  large,  bold,  and 
striking  ;  his  forehead  high,  smooth,  and  benign  ; 
but  the  fine  cast  of  it  was  in  no  small  degree  lost 
by  a  wig  which  he  wore  from  early  life,  having 
become  bald  at  thirty  years  of  age.  This  appen- 
dage was  not  always  made  in  the  most  fashionable 
style,  and  was  frequently,  after  a  fit  of  abstraction, 
<'in  most  admired  disorder."  His  eyes  were 
blue,  tinged  with  hazel-grey,  and  when  thoughtful. 


75 

seemed  sunken,  or  fixed ;  but  when  he  was  excit- 
ed, or  caught  a  new  train  of  thought,  they  shone 
and  twinkled  with  peculiar  lustre.  From  seden- 
tary habits,  and  severe  attention  to  his  books,  his 
constitution,  naturally  strong,  was  shaken,  and  his 
nerves  diseased.  He  felt  himself  subject  to  all  the 
"  skiey  influences,'^  and  dreaded  an  east  wind,  as 
bringing  pestilence  on  its  wings.  When,  in  the 
course  of  his  professional  business,  he  could  not 
avoid  meeting  this  enemy,  he  guarded  himself  with 
a  great  quantity  of  clothes  as  a  protection.  These 
splenetic  feelings,  no  doubt,  arose  from  the  inten- 
sity of  his  application  in  youth.  Had  he  been 
bred  a  farmer,  he  would,  in  all  probability,  have 
been  as  fearless  of  the  elements  as  any  yeoman  of 
our  bleakest  hills,  for  nature  had  given  him  height, 
bone,  and  muscle  for  strength  and  hardihood. 

He  married,  on  the  13th  of  January,  1780,  a 
daughter  of  the  honourable  Benjamin  Grreenleaf, 
and  had  a  numerous  family  of  twelve  children, 
three  sons,  and  four  daughters  of  whom  are  living  ; 
and  no  man  ever  enjoyed  more  with  his  family 
than  he  did.  In  his  domestic  circle,  he  was  always 
the  instructive  friend,  the  kind  husband,  and  the 
indulgent  tender  parent.  Many  great  men  are 
retired,  severe,  or  distant  in  domestic  life.  Ab- 
sorbed in  their  studies,  they  are  unwilling  to  be 


76 

distiirbetl  by  the  ordinary  occurrences  of  life  ;  and 
if  not  unaniiable,  are  seldom  communicative  and 
pleasant ;  but  it  was  not  so  with  him,  for  be  shared 
in  the  amusements,  and  directed  the  studies  of  his 
children  with  the  fondness  and  solicitude  of  a  man 
who  had  no  great  cares  for  others  on  his  mind. 

In  every  path  of  literature  and  science,  the  fallen 
flowers  of  hope  and  promise  are  scattered  and  lost. 
The  canker-worms  are  concealed  in  the  buds,  and 
as  they  open  to  diffuse  their  fragrance,  the  work  of 
destruction  begins.     Many,  who  safely  passed  the 
days   of  youth,  "and  were  early  wise  for  their 
country's   weal,"   have  died   in  the   meridian    of 
their  days,  while  labouring  for  the  good  of  man- 
kind.    Pitt,  Jones,  Hamilton,  and  others  left  the 
world  in  the  summer  of  life,  before  a  single  chill 
of  autumn  had  seared  a  leaf,  or  changed  a  hue  of 
their  honours.     The  world  deplores  their  untimely 
loss,  and  weeps  at  their  monuments,  revolving  the 
mysteries  of  Providence.     But  the  distress  we  feel, 
when  thinking  of  all  they  might  have  done,  is  noth- 
ing so  severe  as  the  pain  we  suffer  in  brooding  over 
the  ruins  of  a  mighty  mind.     Newton,  who  "  un- 
folded all  nature's  law,"   long  survived  his  intel- 
lectual vigour.     "  Bwift  expired  a  driveller  and  a 
show  ;"  and  Trowbridge,  who  had  once  instruct- 
cd  Parsons,  could  hardly  in  the  latter  part  of  his 


77 

life  comprehend  his  own  legal  decisions,  made  in 
the  strength  of  intellectual  power.  The  subject  of 
this  sketch  neither  lived  too  long,  nor  died  prema- 
turely ;  but  at  the  time  when  his  mind  was  yet 
unimpaired — when  his  services  had  reached  a 
goodly  measure — when  his  fame  had  spread  far 
and  wide,  and  settled  on  a  permanent  basis,  he 
closed  his  labours,  and  finished  his  record. 

To  his  family,  his  death  Vv^as  too  soon ;  to  the 
bench  and  the  bar  it  was  too  soon  ;  but  those  who 
think  only  of  their  country's  interest  in  its  talent 
and  genius — those  who  love  to  dwell  upon  what  is 
full  and  entire,  and  that  which  is  beyond  accident, 
or  change,  will  be  satisfied  that  God  has  foreclosed 
the  possibility  of  our  seeing  him  "not  what  he 
was ;"  and  will  rejoice  that  the  seal  of  eternity  has 
been  put  upon  his  virtues,  and  that  his  glory  is 
safe  for  his  country's  inheritance  and  pride. 


SUMNER. 


INCREASE  SUMNER,  late  governor  of  the 
commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  was  bora  at 
Roxbury,  in  the  county  of  Norfolk,  then  in  the 
county  of  Suffolk,  on  the  27th  day  of  November, 
1746.  His  ancestor  came  from  England,  and 
settled  in  Dorchester,  near  Boston ;  the  descend- 
ants from  him  are  numerous.  The  father  of  the 
subject  of  this  sketch,  by  whose  name  he  was 
called,  was  a  farmer,  who  by  frugality,  industry, 
and  success  in  subduing  his  paternal  acres,  and  in 
making  rough  places  smooth,  acquired  consider- 
able property.  Never  was  there  a  man  better  cal- 
culated for  the  sturdy  labours  of  a  yeoman;  of 
colossal  size,  and  equal  strength  of  muscle,  kept  in 
tone  by  regularity  and  good  habits,  he  felt  no  ob- 
stacles in  his  course,  nor  shrunk  at  what  others 
called  fatigue.  Instances  of  wonderful  feats  of 
strength  performed  by  him  in  his  youthful  days, 
are  remembered  in  his  native  place  and  the  vicinity 
unto  this  time.  He  died  much  lamented,  in  1774, 
having  had  eight  children,   only  three  of  whom 


80 

survived  him,  one  son  and  two  daughters.  Eliza, 
beth,  the  eldest,  married  Charles  Gushing,  Esq.  of 
Boston,  who  was  at  the  time  of  his  marriage,  sheriff 
of  the  county  of  Lincoln.  Lucy  married  William 
Bowman,  Esq.  father  of  the  late  captain  Bowman, 
who  behaved  with  much  gallantry  at  the  battle  of 
Bridgewater,  in  the  last  war. 

The  first  rudiments  of  learning  were  taught 
Sumner  by  the  late  Judge  William  Gushing,  who 
was  then  preceptor  of  the  public  grammar  school 
in  Roxbury.  Under  such  a  master  the  pupil  made 
such  progress,  as  to  induce  the  friends  of  the  family 
to  solicit  the  father  to  permit  his  son  to  pursue  hi» 
studies  at  Harvard  University.  To  gain  this  poiut 
was  no  easy  task  ;  the  hardy  yeoman  considered 
that  happiness  and  success  in  life  were  more  cer- 
tainly found  in  agricultural  pursuits,  than  in  any 
other  course,  but  he  yielded  at  length  to  the  repeat- 
ed entreaties  of  his  son,  aud  to  those  who  indulged 
ardent  hopes  of  the  youth's  future  eminence,  if  he 
could  obtain  a  classical  education.  All  obstacles 
being  surmounted,  he  entered  college  in  1763,  and 
his  reputation  while  there,  justified  the  predictions 
of  his  friends,  for  he  graduated  with  a  distinguish- 
ed part  in  the  commencement  exercises  of  1767* 
On  leaving  college,  he  took  charge  of  the  school 
at  which  he  had  received  his  preparatory  education 


81 

for  admission  to  tlie  University,  and  continued  in 
this  situation  for  two  years.  This  employment, 
followed  only  for  a  few  years,  has  in  it  many  ad- 
vantages. The  loss  of  time  to  a  young  man  is 
more  than  counterbalanced  by  acquiring  accuracy 
in  the  classics  he  has  read,  but  jjrobably  in  some 
measure  forgotten,  and  in  acquiring  habits  of  atten- 
tion, regularity,  and  method  in  business.  He 
acquires  also  in  teaching  youths,  some  acquaint- 
ance with  human  nature  in  its  spring-tide,  before 
passions,  prejudices  and  pursuits  have  had  their 
influence  upon  the  heart  and  mind.  This  knowl- 
edge is  valuable  to  every  one,  but  more  particularly 
so  to  one  who  has  to  gain  his  support,  and  form  his 
reputation  in  the  profession  of  tiie  law.  At  the 
close  of  his  labours  as  an  instructor,  he  entered  the 
office  of  Samuel  Quincy,  an  eminent  barrister,  the 
brother  of  Josiah  Quincy,  the  patriot,  statesman, 
and  orator,  who  early  fell  a  victim  to  his  arduous 
exertions  in  the  cause  of  freedom.  In  1770,  Sum- 
ner was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  opened  his  office 
in  Roxbury.  The  people  found  him  intelligent, 
and  worthy  of  confidence,  and  his  business  in  the 
profession  soon  became  important  and  lucrative. 
In  the  year  I776,  a  period  of  great  difficulties,  and 
fearful  apprehensions,  he  was  chosen  a  member  of 
the  General  Court,  and  continued  to  represent  his 
11 


82 

native  town   the  three  following  years,  until  ia 
I78O,  he  was   elected  a  senator  for  the  county  of 
Norfolk,  which  office  he  filled  the  two  succeeding 
years,  by  the  almost  unanimous  choice  of  his  con- 
stituents.   In  the  Convention  of  1777>  for  agreeing 
on  a  form  of  government,  he  held  a  seat ;  but  the 
part  any  one  took  in  that  body  is  now  nearly  for- 
gotten, as  no  report  of  their  proceedings  was  ever 
made ;    and  the  newspapers  of  that  day  mention 
the  fact  of  a  Convention,  only  as  they  did  ordinary 
occurrences  in  the  Legislature.     He  was   also  a 
member  of  the  Convention  which  was  called  for 
the  same  purpose  in  1779?  the  first  plan  offered  not 
having  been  approved  and  adopted  by  the  people. 
He  was  again  sent  by  his  fellow  citizens  to  aid 
in   the    deliberations   of  the  Massachusetts  Con- 
vention of  1789,  when  the  adoption  of  the  Consti- 
tution of  the  United  States  was  under  discussion. 
The  progress  of  civil  liberty  is  a  subject  always 
dear  to  an  enlightened  community,  and  to  every 
one  who  has  known  the  blessings  of  freedom,  and 
the  value  of  laws.     I  shall  therefore  in  this  place 
give  a  short  history  of  these  Conventions,  particu- 
larly as  Judge  Sumner  was  a  member  of  all  three 
of  them,  and  was  a  conspicuous   actor  in  all  the 
political  events  of  that  interesting  period.     This 
account  must  be   necessarily   brief,   and  merely 


83 

chronological.  A  full  developement  of  the  motives 
of  the  actors,  the  principles  they  avowed,  the  man- 
ner of  their  deliberation,  and  the  powers  and  learn- 
ing displayed  by  them,  oq  these  several  occasions, 
would  be  far  beyond  the  scope  of  my  work,  were 
my  materials  and  information  equal  to  the  task. 

The  members  of  the  General  Assembly  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, and  the  Executive  Council,  being  in- 
vested with  powers  at  their  election,  in  pursuance 
of  a  resolve  of  that  body,  passed  the  preceding 
political  year,  and  sent  to  the  people,  met  in  Con- 
vention, and  on  the  6th  of  March,  1777?  published 
what  is  styled  the  doings  of  "the  General  Conven- 
tion of  the  Commonwealth,  or  State  of  Massachu- 
setts," declaring  the  same  to  be  a  free  State.  After 
a  preamble,  recitiug  all  their  grievances  as  colonies, 
and  also  reciting  the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
published  July  4,  1776,  the  Convention  go  on  to 
say  that  "  the  ancient  government  of  this  colony 
being  thus  totally  dissolved,  and  the  people  driven 
into  a  state  of  nature,  it  becomes  their  indispensa- 
ble duty,  and  what  self  preservation  requires,  to 
declare  themselves  independent  of  Great  Britain? 
and  to  establish  such  a  Constitution  aud  form  of 
civil  government,  as  to  them  appears  best  calculat- 
ed to  promote  their  greatest  possible  happioess." 
This   draft   of    a   Constitution,    discovered  some 


84 

marks  of  talents  and  political  information  ;  but  as 
a  whole  is  rather  crude.  It  was  sent  to  the  people 
for  their  approbation,  but  it  was  instantly  attacked 
by  some  of  the  most  enlightened  statesmen  in  the 
Coramonwealthj  and  was  so  thoroughly  investigat- 
ed by  the  people  of  Essex  in  their  "  Result"  that 
it  was  rejected  by  most  of  those,  who  in  their 
eagerness  for  having  some  Constitution,  had  been 
friendly  to  it  at  first.  This  attempt  having  failed, 
the  Legislature  passed  a  Resolve  to  call  a  Conven- 
tion of  Delegates,  whose  sole  business  should  be 
to  make  a  Constitution  for  the  Commonwealth. 
This  resolve  was  dated  June  17^  1779-  This 
delay  in  forming  a  Constitution,  gave  the  people 
two  years  and  more  to  turn  their  thoughts  to  this 
subject,  and  get  all  the  information  which  could 
be  found.  The  Convention  met  at  Cambridge  on 
the  first  day  of  September,  1779?  but  finding  that 
several  towns  were  not  represented  in  that  body, 
no  precepts  having  been  issued  to  them  for  a  choice 
of  delegates,  the  Convention  adjourned  on  the  7th 
of  the  same  mouth  to  meet  again  at  the  same  place 
on  the  28th  day  of  October  following.  At  this 
time  the  Convention  came  together,  and  continued 
in  session  until  the  12th  of  November,  and  then 
adjourned  to  meet  in  Boston  on  the  5th  of  January, 
1780 ;    but  on  the  5th  when  they  were  to  set  in 


85 

Boston,  the  weather  was  so  cold  and  stormy,  and 
the  snow  so  deep,  that  on  the  27th  of  the  same 
month,  sixty  members  only  were  present,  and  not 
a  single  question  beyond  that  of  order  or  adjourn- 
ment had  been  discussed.  The  next  day,  being 
tired  of  delay,  the  members  present  ordered  that 
the  business  should  proceed.  This  session  was 
protracted  until  the  2d  day  of  March,  and  then 
the  Convention  adjourned,  to  meet  in  June.  Pre- 
vious to  this  adjournment,  the  Convention  resolv- 
ed, "  that  the  towns  and  plantations  of  this  State 
have  a  right  to  choose  other  delegates,  instead  of 
the  present  members,  to  meet  in  the  Convention  on 
the  first  Wednesday  of  June  next,  if  they  see  fit."' 
The  Convention  met  on  the  7th  of  June,  and  con- 
tinued in  session  until  the  17th  of  the  same  month. 
The  first  draft  of  this  Constitution,  as  offered  for 
discussion,  was  said  to  be  much  better  than  it  was 
when  altered  to  suit  the  majority  of  the  Convention. 
The  first  talents  in  the  Commonwealth  were  as- 
sembled on  this  occasion,  and  the  debates  were 
free,  spirited  and  dignified  ;  but  there  is  not  a  trace 
of  them  left,  except  a  few  recollections  in  the  de- 
cayed memories  of  the  remaining  statesmen  who 
formed  that  body.  The  subject  of  this  sketch  was 
also  a  member  of  the  Convention  in  Massachu- 
setts called  for  discussing  the  Constitution  for  the 


86 

General  Grovernmeut,  which  had  been  sent  to  the 
several  States  for  their  adoption.  This  was  a 
great  question,  "  fraught  with  the  fate  of  Rome." 
Profound  lawyers,  able  politicians,  and  eloquent 
orators  were  sent  by  the  people  to  this  body,  to  de- 
liberate and  decide.  The  prosperity,  the  dignity, 
and  strength  of  the  nation  were  involved  in  it.  To 
unite,  was  considered  by  all  to  be  necessary,  but 
on  what  terms,  it  was  as  difiacult  as  important  to 
settle.  The  rights  of  all  must  be  secured,  the 
honour  and  prosperity  of  the  nation  consulted,  the 
interests  of  every  section  of  the  country  were  to  be 
regarded ;  jarring  claims  were  to  be  adjusted,  and 
discordant  feelings  to  be  reconciled.  All  agreed 
that  the  old  confederation  was  insufficient,  but 
many  were  fearful  of  trusting  too  much  power  in 
the  hands  of  Congress  and  the  Executive  ;  they 
remembered  the  abuse  of  it  in  others,  and  dreaded 
the  improper  use  of  it  even  from  those  chosen  by 
themselves.  To  remain  separate  and  independent 
sovereignties,  would  be  loosing  half  the  advantages 
of  independence.  In  this  conflict  of  feeling ;  in 
this  contrariety  of  opinion,  every  talent  was  in 
requisition. 

These  great  assemblages  of  learned  and  wise 
men,  three  or  four  times  in  a  century,  are  of  use  in 
many  points  of  view.     By  them  political  errors 


87 

aud  abuses  are  corrected ;  and  by  them  too  we 
form  a  pretty  good  scale  to  measure  the  iutellec- 
tual  capacities  of  leading  men.  ^^The  errors  of  the 
market,"  to  use  a  phrase  of  lord  Bacon's,  if  we 
would  be  just,  require  a  most  watchful  attention. 
In  times  of  composure  and  quiet,  many  men  of  ster- 
ling merit  are  kept  in  the  back-ground,  while  others 
with  half  their  powers  are  nursed  and  fondled  into 
consequence.  Matters  of  high  importance  to  the 
community,  involving  first  principles,  discussed 
when  there  is  no  alarming  exigency,  offer  a  noble 
field  for  "  the  strife  of  mighty  minds."  It  requires 
a  powerful  grasp  of  thought  to  discuss,  and  the 
learning  of  ages  to  illustrate,  principles  arising 
from  moral  and  political  relations,  among  a  free 
and  enlightened  people.  In  such  a  rivalry,  great 
men  find  their  true  elevation,  and  vanity  and 
ignorance,  if  they  be  not  incorrigible,  are  beaten 
into  a  just  appreciation  of  their  own  worth.  But 
if  they  do  not  find  their  level,  the  public  are  set 
right  in  their  opinions  concerning  individual  merit, 
and  therefore  much  is  gained. 

In  June,  1782,  Sumner  was  chosen  a  member 
of  Congress  by  the  legislature  of  Massachusetts, 
in  room  of  Timothy  Danielson,  who  resigned  his 
seat ;  but  subsequent  events  prevented  his  ever 
taking  his  seat  in  that  body.     In  August,  1782,  he 


88 

was  made  associate  judge  of  the  supreme  judicial 
court.  This  distinction  was  thought  by  all  to  be 
merited.  He  was  young,  but  the  public  had  confi- 
dence in  his  integrity  and  ability,  and  the  Court 
considered  him  an  acquisition.  This  appointment 
was  made  but  a  short  time  after  the  State  Consti- 
tution had  gone  into  operation,  and  while  the 
wounds  of  our  country  were  green,  and  the  sounds 
of  war  had  not  been  hushed  on  our  shores,  and 
every  thing  was  in  an  unsettled  state.  After  the 
turbulence  of  the  conflict  had  subsided,  the  loss  of 
blood  and  treasure  were  severely  felt.  The  paper 
currencies,  which  had  been  floated  along  by  hope 
and  credulity,  and  buoyed  up  by  a  spirit  of  patriot- 
ism, had  sunk  in  value,  until  they  were  become 
"worthless  as  the  weeds  which  rot  on  Lethe's 
wharf."  All  confidence  had  fled,  and  the  war- 
worn soldier  reluctantly  yielded  to  the  course  of 
law,  which  took  from  him  his  last  penny,  and  left 
his  family  outcasts  and  beggars.  Most  men  are 
short-sighted,  and  are  more  affected  by  a  present 
evil,  than  by  any  expected  good,  which  may  be 
long  in  coming.  Symptoms  of  disaffection,  and 
acts  of  turbulence  were  witnessed  in  every  part  of 
the  Commonwealth.  The  government  were  not 
prompt  in  avenging  the  insults  offered  to  the 
majesty   of  the   laws,  but  used  palliatives,   and 


89 

acted  with  indecision,  until  rebellion  was  open  and 
direct. 

It  is  true  that  all  that  opposition,  which  arrayed 
itself  in  arras,  was  put  down  in  one  campaign  ;  yet 
there  was  a  still,  secret,  but  by  no  means  con- 
temptible power,  constantly  in  action,  which  it  was 
difficult  to  reach,  and  almost  impossible  to  destroy, 
for  it  breathed  itself  in  accents  short  of  treason, 
and  could  not  be  silenced  by  fear,  nor  appeased  by 
promises.  One  of  the  forms  of  this  disaffection 
was  shewn  in  violent  attacks  on  the  common  law, 
and  on  its  supporters  and  agents.  Voices  were 
raised  in  various  quarters  against  this  proud  sys- 
tem of  common  sense  and  enliglitened  reason  ;  and 
many,  not  contented  with  the  right  of  softening  its 
features,  and  adapting  them  to  our  manners,  habits, 
and  wishes  by  statutary  provisions,  were  for  abol- 
ishing this  venerable  structure  at  once.  The 
judges  at  such  a  period  must  have  had  a  hard  and 
painful  task  to  perform  in  discharging  their  duty. 
They,  however,  not  only  proceeded  with  discre- 
tion and  humanity,  but  also  with  that  fearlessness 
of  consequences  which  discharges  its  duty,  and 
leaves  the  event  to  heaven.  To  the  firmness  and 
independence  of  our  judiciary,  we  are  much  in- 
debted for  the  suppression  of  faction,  and  the  confi- 
dence in  one  another,  and  in  the  government  which 

12 


90 

soon  followed  these  civil  commotions.  It  is  one 
strong  proof  of  the  wisdom  of  those  who  brought 
about  the  Revolution,  that  they  instantly  constitut- 
ed, as  far  as  they  could,  au  enlightened  judiciary. 
Soon  after  the  assumption  of  government  in  Mas- 
sachusetts, which  was  administered  according  to 
the  charter  of  William  and  Mary,  upon  the  advice 
of  the  Continental  Congress,  an  act  was  passed 
by  the  legislature,  removing  judicial  and  other 
officers.  Peter  Oliver,  Foster  Hutchinson, 
Edmund  Trowbridge,  William  Cushing,  and 
William  Brown  were  removed,  and  John  Ad- 
AMS,  William  Cushing,  Jedidiah  Foster,  Na- 
thaniel Peasley  Sargent,  and  James  Sulli- 
van were  appointed  judges  of  the  supreme  court. 
Sargent  did  not  then  accept,  and  Adams  never 
took  his  seat  as  chief  justice,  but  resigned  in  1777- 
His  political  duties  made  it  necessary  for  him  to 
be  so  much  from  home,  that  he  found  it  impossi- 
ble to  serve  the  Commonwealth  in  this  capacity. 
When  Foster  died,  Sumner  was  appointed  to 
fill  his  place,  and  continued  on  the  bench  until 
1797,  when  he  was  called  by  the  suffrages  of  his 
fellow  citizens  to  the  chair  of  chief  magistrate. 
He  was  also  elected  the  two  following  years,  but 
did  not  act  in  that  capacity  the  last  year,  for  he 
was  languishing  on  a  bed  of  sickness  at  the  meet- 


91 

ing  of  the  General  Court,  at  the  commencement  of 
the  political  year,  1799 ;  but  being  declared  elect- 
ed, and  having  accepted  the  trust,  the  legislature 
were  anxious  that  he  should  be  qualified  before  his 
decease,  all  hopes  of  his  recovery  being  now  given 
up  ;  for  they  had  some  constitutional  scruples 
about  the  right  of  the  lieutenant  governor  to  act  as 
chief  magistrate  after  the  death  of  the  governor, 
unless  the  oath  of  oflBce  had  been  previously  ad- 
ministered. This  ceremony  took  place  in  the  bed 
chamber  of  the  dying  governor,  who  was  willing 
to  yield  his  last  breath  in  the  cause  of  his  duty. 
He  closed  his  life  on  the  seventh  day  of  June, 
1799,  in  the  fifty-third  year  of  his  age.  No  death, 
except  Washington's,  was  ever  more  deeply  de- 
plored in  Massachusetts.  His  Honor,  lieutenant 
governor  Gill,  as  soon  as  his  death  was  known  to 
him,  announced  it  to  the  legislature  by  the  follow- 
ing message : —  ^ 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  Senate,  and 

Gentlemen  of  the  House  of  Representatives, 

"  It  is  with  the  deepest  sorrow  that  I  communi- 
cate the  melancholy  event  of  the  death  of  his  late 
Excellency,  Increase  Sumner,  Esq.  which  hap- 
pened this  day,  about  11  o'clock.  I  am  ready  to 
attend  to  the  executive  business  of  the  Common- 
wealth, agreeably  to  the  provision  of  the  Constitu- 


92 

tion  ;  and  shall  also  be  ready  to  uaite  with  you,  in 
our  respects  to  the  remains  of  so  worthy  and  valu- 
able a  chief  magistrate." 

A  committee  of  the  legislature  was  appointed  to 
superintend  the  funeral  obsequies  of  the  deceased, 
which  took  place  on  the  12th  of  June,  and  were 
the  most  solemn  and  splendid  ever  witnessed  in 
the  Commonwealth.  All  classes  of  citizens  min- 
gled their  sympathies  on  this  mournful  occasion ; 
and  badges  of  respect  for  the  memory  of  the  de- 
ceased were  generally  worn  for  forty  days.  On 
the  17th,  the  lieutenant  governor  made  his  speech 
to  the  legislature,  and  mentioned  the  afllicting  dis- 
pensation of  Providence,  in  terms  of  affection  and 
respect. 

The  answers  from  the  Senate,  and  House  of 
Representatives,  have  much  feeling  and  delicacy 
in  them.  The  following  is  the  answer  of  the 
House. 

"We,  the  House  of  Representatives,  sincerely 
sympathize  with  your  Honor  in  the  grief  occasion- 
ed by  the  death  of  our  late  excellent  chief  magis- 
trate. In  adverting  to  this  melancholy  event,  we 
cannot  refrain  from  pausing,  and  dwelling  for  a 
moment  on  those  qualities  of  the  deceased,  which 
so  remarkably  endeared  him  to  his  fellow  citizens. 
In  him  were  singularly  united  all  those   virtues 


93 

which  conciliate  affection,  and  command  respect. 
To  an  uncommon  mildness  of  temper,  and  a  dispo- 
sition to  promote  the  happiness  of  all,  were  joined 
unshaken  firmness,  and  an  unyielding  sense  of 
duty.  His  knowledge  and  discernment  enabled, 
and  his  regard  for  the  public  good  prompted  him 
to  make  the  most  judicious  appointments.  A  cor- 
rect and  enlightened  understanding,  and  a  long 
and  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  science  of  ju- 
risprudence, qualified  him  to  form  just  opinions  of 
the  expediency  and  constitutionality  of  such  legis- 
lative acts  as  were  submitted  to  his  consideration. 
The  whole  tenor  of  his  life  evinced  the  sincerity 
of  his  piety,  and  his  unaffected  patriotism.  Surely 
the  death  of  such  a  magistrate,  and  at  such  a  crisis, 
must  be  considered  as  a  most  serious  public  ca- 
lamity j  and  if  the  ardent  prayers  of  his  fellow 
citizens  could  have  prolonged  his  most  valuable 
life,  long,  very  long,  would  he  have  continued  a 
blessing,  and  an  ornament  to  his  country.  Nor 
will  his  death  be  lamented  by  the  citizens  of  this 
State  alone ,  the  friends  of  the  Federal  Govern- 
ment throughout  the  Union  will  deeply  regret  the 
loss  of  a  man,  who  in  discharging  the  important 
duties  of  his  high  office,  gave,  on  every  proper 
occasion,  his  decided  support  to  the  measures  of 
that  government." 


94 

The  reverend  clergy,  and  the  fourth  of  July  ora- 
tors for  that  year,  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  ia 
their  testimonies  of  respect  for  his  character  ;  and 
the  poets  of  the  day  bewailed  his  death  in  numer- 
ous elegies.  But  the  language  of  grief  is  seldom 
clear  and  discriminating ;  the  eulogy  and  the  dirge 
are  generally  found  to  be  better  proofs  of  affection, 
than  accurate  details  of  incidents,  or  correct  de- 
scriptions of  genius  or  virtues.  The  heart  may 
retain  its  warmth,  while  the  hand  is  tracing  the 
lineaments  of  character,  but  the  sorrows  of  the 
soul  must  be  assuaged  before  the  portrait  can  be 
finished  to  the  life. 

In  every  situation  in  which  he  was  called  to  act, 
and  they  were  numerous,  he  was  a  popular  man, 
without  the  least  trait  of  a  demagogue  in  his  com- 
position. His  was  "that  popularity  which  follows, 
and  not  that  which  is  run  after."  In  the  analysis 
of  his  mind  there  is  not  to  be  found  one  extraordi- 
nary power,  nor  one  mean  quality.  It  was  the 
harmony  of  the  mental  and  moral  relations,  that 
gave  strength,  elevation,  and  loveliness  to  the 
whole  of  his  cliaracter.  In  the  cluster  of  his  vir- 
tues there  is  no  withered  fruit;  with  him  there  was 
no  reverse  of  the  medal — all  the  traces  on  it  were 
seen  at  once,  full  and  fair.  In  weighing  his  merits 
there  is  no  counterbalance  of  excellencies  and  de- 


95 

fects ;  no  contrast  of  bright  and  dark  spots,  of 
sterile  wastes  and  luxuriant  fields,  of  burning  pas- 
sions and  chilling  apathies,  but  one  smooth  and 
green  surface  of  extended  plain,  of  gradual  risings? 
or  gentle  descents.  In  him,  thought,  feeling,  in- 
tention, and  action  were  constantly  in  unison. 
Such  a  man  is  rarely  found  ;  but  when  the  com- 
munity are  sure  of  possessing  a  character  like  this, 
however  dull  the  world  may  seem,  and  however 
regardless  apparently  it  may  be  to  its  true  interests 
generally,  it  never,  in  the  worst  of  times,  hesitates 
to  lavish  confidence,  respect,  and  homage  on  those 
who  are  the  staple  of  its  intellectual  pleasures,  and 
the  crown  of  its  political  honors.  His  early  eleva- 
tion to  the  bench  is  an  unanswerable  proof  that  he 
was  held  in  high  estimation  for  his  good  sense 
and  honesty  as  a  lawyer.  As  a  judge,  he  was 
clear-headed,  firm,  and  accessible,  and  discovered 
dignity  and  urbanity  in  all  the  forms  of  business, 
for  he  knew  that  to  give  a  true  effect  to  judicial 
proceedings,  and  legal  opinions,  it  was  necessary 
that  the  ministers  of  justice  should  have  the  cour- 
tesies of  wisdom,  as  well  as  her  stability,  discrim- 
ination, and  integrity.  There  are  many  things  in 
our  institutions,  of  which  we  do  not  justly  appre- 
ciate the  value  while  we  enjoy  them,  for  we  have 
never  known,  or  have  forgotten  what  they  cost 


96 

those  who  went  before  us.  The  following  extract 
from  one  of  his  charges  to  the  grand  jury,  will 
shew  how  he  felt  and  reasoned  upon  a  subject  of 
vital  importance  to  the  public. 

^•^  There  is  but  one  subject  more,  gentlemen,  that 
I  shall  call  your  attention  to,  and  that  is  a  subject 
of  the  highest  importance  to  us  as  a  people.  1 
mean  the  support  of  schools  and  school- masters 
according  to  law.  Our  venerable  ancestors  were 
early  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  importance  of 
education  to  the  rising  generation.  No  sooner  had 
they  got  footing  in  this  inhospitable  laud,  even 
while  struggling  with  poverty  and  want  on  the 
one  hand,  and  a  savage  foe  on  the  other,  than  they 
laid  a  foundation  for  the  proper  education  of  their 
children,  foreseeing  that  the  prosperity  of  their 
then  infant  settlement  depended  upon  it ;  and  if  a 
matter  of  such  moment  was  neglected,  their  pos- 
terity would  soon  become  as  illiterate  and  unin- 
formed as  the  natives  they  were  contending  with  ; 
and  shall  I  presume  that  we,  their  posterity,  will 
suffer  an  institution  so  wise — so  important  to 
society,  to  lie  neglected?  If  such  inhabitants  did 
but  consider  the  importance  of  education  to  the 
public,  as  well  as  to  their  children,  they  would 
exert  themselves  to  carry  the  laws  relating  thereto 
into  full  execution  ;  for  how  can  a  republican  gov- 


97 

eminent  be  maintained  but  by  the  learning,  virtue, 
public  spirit,  and  knowledge  of  its  citizens.  If 
therefore  you  know  of  any  towns  in  this  county, 
which  by  law  are  obliged  to  support  school-masters, 
and  are  so  lost  to  themselves  and  the  risins;  s:ene- 
ration  as  to  neglect  it,  you  have  it  in  charge  from 
the  Court  to  present  them.  These,  with  all  other 
high  crimes  and  misdemeanors  done  and  commit- 
ted within  the  body  of  this  county,  will  employ 
your  diligent  attention  and  inquiry. 

*'What  remains  then.  Gentlemen,  to  make  us 
the  happiest  people  on  the  globe,  favoured  as  we 
are  with  the  wisest  and  the  freest  constitutions  of 
civil  government ;  encircled  as  we  are  with  the 
blessings  of  peace,  health,  and  plenty  ;  but  that  we 
carry  into  private  life  those  principles  of  reverence 
for  the  Supreme  Grovernor  of  the  world  ;  and  that 
industry,  public  spirit,  frugality,  and  benevolence, 
which  will  not  fail  to  insure  the  continuance  of 
those  blessings.  Let  every  one,  then,  in  his  sta- 
tion, cultivate  those  virtues,  and  we  should  soon 
find  that  crimes  in  society  would  become  less  in 
number  and  in  magnitude ;  and  that  society  was 
rapidly  advancing  to  its  highest  state  of  perfection. 
Thus  we  shall  have  the  satisfaction  of  reHectina: 
that  we  have  discharged  our  duty,  by  contributing 
all  in  our  power  to  the  general  welfare,  which  is 


98 

best  promoted  by  the  practice  of  that  righteous- 
ness, which  always  did,  and  which  always  will 
exalt  and  dignify  the  character  of  a  nation.     We 
have  the  happiness  to  live  in  a  country  where  our 
rights  are  fully  understood,  and  freely  enjoyed ; 
and   America  furnishes  one,  among   the   few  in- 
stances where  the  blessings  of  civil  liberty,  and  the 
rights  of  mankind  have  been  the  primary  objects 
of  their  political  institutions  ;  in  which  the  rich 
and  the  poor  are  equally  protected  ;    w  here  the 
weak  are  defended  against  the  usurpations   of  the 
violent ;  where  the  rights  of  conscience  are  freely 
enjoyed ;  and  where  merit  and  abilities  can  be  the 
only  claim  to  the  favour  of  the  public.     May  we 
not,  then,  pronounce  that  man  destitute  of  the  true 
principles  of  liberty,  and  unworthy  the  blessings  of 
society,  who  does  not  at  all  times  lend  his  aid  to 
maintain  and  support  a  government,  on  the  preser- 
vation and   due  administration  of  which  depends 
his  own  political  as  well  as  private  happiness.     It 
is  in  vain  to  think  of  supporting  a  free  govern- 
ment, unless  it  be  by  the  virtue,  public  spirit,  and 
affection  of  its   members.     Governments  of  other 
descriptions  may  be  supported  by  the  intrigues  of 
officers  and  magistrates,  and  by  the  terror  of  arms, 
but  that  which  owes  its  existence  to  the  will  of  the 
people,  must   derive  its  support   from  the   same 


99 

source ;  hence  it  becomes  the  duty  as  well  as  the 
interest  of  every  citizen  to  aid  the  magistrate  in 
the  faithful  discharge  of  his  office,  without  which 
the  laws,  or  in  other  words  the  will  of  the  great 
body  of  the  people,  cannot  be  carried  into  effect, 
without  which  the  government  will  be  but  a  name  ; 
a  useless  burden  on  the  people.'^ 

He  was  taken  from  the  bench  almost  against  his 
consent,  to  be  made  chief  magistrate.  The  country 
at  that  time,  notwithstanding  all  the  depredations 
upon  our  commerce,  was  prosperous ;  but  the 
people  were  full  of  apprehensions  for  the  future. 
We  were  robbed  of  our  property;  but  this  was 
but  a  small  part  of  the  evil  we  suffered  from  the 
French  Revolution  ;  the  moral  and  political  poison 
concocted  and  shed  abroad  by  this  crush  of  an- 
cient systems  was  then  extending  to  the  core  of 
every  valuable  institution  in  Europe  and  America. 
Thrones  were  shaken,  and  altars  profaned,  and 
"  the  spasms  of  infuriated  man"  were  reaching  the 
magic  circle  of  domestic  happiness,  which,  with 
other  blessings,  had  in  a  good  measure  grown  out 
of  the  Christian  religion.  At  such  a  period,  it 
was  more  than  ever  necessary  to  have  at  the  head 
of  the  Commonwealth  a  man,  whose  virtues  iu 
private  life  were  unassailable,  and  whose  general 
reputation  placed  him  out  of  the  reach  of  slander. 


100 

Such  a  man  was  found  in  Increase  Sumner — 
the  most  difficiilt  of  all  men  to  oppose  with  success 
in  such  a  population  as  that  of  Massachusetts. 
His  political  enemies  could  not  say  that  he  was 
light  and  versatile,  for  his  whole  character  was  of 
a  sober  and  grave  cast.  He  could  not  be  objected 
to  on  account  of  age  and  infirmities,  for  he  was 
then  in  the  prime  and  vigour  of  life.  The  humble 
could  not  charge  him  with  haughtiness  aud  pride, 
for  he  was  polite  aud  accessible  to  all  classes  of 
his  fellow  citizens  ;  and  the  proud  could  not  hate 
him  for  his  familiarity,  for  he  never  compromised 
or  forgot  iiis  dignity  in  any  place  or  circle.  No 
man  could  say  that  he  was  ever  hard-hearted  and 
avaricious,  for  he  had  oppressed  no  one.  The 
jealous  could  not  charge  him  with  ambition,  for  he 
made  no  effort  for  public  honours  or  offices.  The 
bigot  could  not  say  that  he  was  wanting  in  solem- 
nity and  religion,  for  he  was  a  professor  of  religion 
from  his  youth  upwards.  The  liberal  could  not 
say  that  he  was  a  bigot,  for  his  creed,  and  what 
was  better,  his  life  was  full  of  kindness  and  for- 
giveness ;  and  those  who  love  to  find  fault  without 
a  cause  whenever  they  have  an  opportunity,  might 
have  exerted  themselves  in  vain  to  have  discovered 
any  thing  M'hicli  could  be  considered  an  error  in 
"blood  or  judgment." 


101 

In  his  office  of  chief  magistrate,  he  displayed 
the  same  careful  attention  to  duty  as  he  had  done 
in  other  situations.  He  was  not  a  military  man 
by  title  or  study,  until  he  was  made  commander  in 
chief,  but  reasoning  as  a  wise  man,  he  always 
considered  the  militia  in  a  republican  government 
"  as  the  cheap  defence  of  nations" — as  the  only 
efficient  protection  to  a  country  extending  over  such 
an  immense  territory.  Impressed  with  this  belief 
he  was  attentive  to  the  military  department  which 
had  not  been  cherished  with  any  particular  fond- 
ness by  any  of  his  predecessors  in  office.  He  took 
salutary  advice  on  this  subject,  and  used  his  exer- 
tions, which  were  successful,  in  increasing  the 
number  of  arsenals  in  the  Commonwealth,  and  in 
augmenting  the  munitions  of  war. 

His  administration  commenced  at  a  period  when 
the  elements  of  our  political  establishments  were 
severely  tested.  There  was  no  received  standard 
of  public  opinion  for  measures  any  more  than  for 
men.  The  idolators  of  the  old  systems  clamoured 
at  the  slightest  innovation,  and  the  innovators  were 
pushing  on  with  zeal  to  destroy  the  ancient  land- 
marks. In  this  political  effervescence  he  held  an 
unwavering  course.  Believing  that  the  general 
government  was  founded  upon  the  best  views  of 
the  dispositions  of  the  people,  and  of  the  nature  of 


102 

their  institutions,  lie  lieartily  supported  its  policy, 
not  thinking  that  a  few  mistakes  gave  him  a  right 
to  complain  of  the  course  pursued.  When  others 
were  fearful  that  the  great  political  fabric  which 
had  been  reared  amid  the  acclamations  of  the  world 
was  about  to  crumble  into  dust,  his  faith  in  its 
permanency  was  unshaken.  He  saw  in  the  confu- 
sion of  conflicting  opinions  the  progress  of  that 
intelligence  and  good  sense  which  is  the  only  rock 
of  adamant  on  which  a  republic  can  safely  be  built. 
The  republic  of  France  had  been  erected  in  a 
feverish  dream  of  liberty,  on  the  sandy  foundation 
of  philosophical  theories,  without  regard  to  the 
feelings,  manners  and  habits  of  the  people,  and 
was  at  this  moment  sinking  under  the  weight  of 
military  despotism.  The  fate  of  this  republic 
seemed  a  warning  voice  to  others,  and  fears  were 
felt  by  good  and  wise  men  that  we  too  were  verg- 
ing toward  destruction.  The  coolness  and  firm- 
ness of  the  chief  magistrate,  and  his  confidence  in 
the  general  government,  did  much  to  strengthen 
and  support  it.  He  was  well  acquainted  with  the 
illustrious  individual  who  was  at  that  time  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  for  he  had  been  asso- 
ciated with  him  in  politics,  loved  him  as  a  friend, 
respected  him  as  a  statesman,  and  followed  him  in 
his  track  of  glory  with  unequivocal  confidence, 
and  undisguised  admiration. 


103 

Sumner  always  retained  a  love  for  the  ciiltiva- 
tiou  of  the   soil,  and   was  a  substantial  practical 
farmer,  who  set  an  example  of  good  husbandry  to 
his  neighbours.     His  lands  were  extensive,  and  he 
furnished  employment   to  many  labourers.     This 
fondness  for  agriculture  was  not  then,  as  it  now  is, 
generally    cherished    by  the   most   distinguished 
characters   of    the    Commonwealth.      Commerce, 
and  the  professions  absorbed  the   whole  time  of 
those  engaged  in  these  pursuits ;  but  within  a  few 
years  past,  merchants,   lawyers,  physicians,  and 
divines  have  cultivated  a  taste  for  farming,  and 
made  great  exertions  to  excite  a  spirit  of  industry 
and  enterprise  among  the  yeomen  of  our  country. 
With  us,  a  few  years  ago,  it  was  scarcely  thought 
a  matter  worthy  of  the  attention  of  a  man  of  science 
and  taste  to  attempt  to  make  two  blades  of  grass 
grow   where  only  one   grew   before,  ©r  by  new 
methods  of  feeding,  to  make  a  bullock  grow  from 
an  ordinary  to  an  uncommon  size.     This  was  left 
entirely  to  those  whose  every-day  business  it  was 
to  plough  and  to  sow.     Experience,  as  it  was  call- 
ed,  was  among  them  the  sole  guide,  and  this  term 
meant  nothing  more  than  a  repetition  of  careless, 
uuphilosophical  methods  of  farming.     Errors  and 
prejudices  held  their  course  against  all  reasoning, 
until  the  scientific  and  opulent  broke  the  thraldom 


104 

by  successful  experiments,  repeated,  promulgated 
and   explained   so   often,  that  common  sense,  or 
rather  common  prejudice,  could  no  longer  resist  the 
evidences  in  favour  of  a  change.     Sumner  had 
always  an  unwavering   confidence  in   the   future 
prosperity  of  this  country,  but  he  knew  it  must  be 
ensured   by  those  means  which  required  time,  pa- 
tience and  sagacity  to  use ;  and  had  he  lived  until 
this  day,  he  would  have  seen  his  expectations  of 
agricultural  improvements  in  some  measure  realiz- 
ed, his  belief  in  the  solidity  of  our  national  govern- 
ment confirmed,  and  would  have   rejoiced  in   the 
general  diffusion  of  knowledge  among  all  rauks  of 
people.      The  patriot's   bosom   is    always    warm 
with  ardent  hopes  for  the  prosperity  of  his  country ; 
"  unborn  ages  crowd  upon  his  soul,"  not  with  the 
gloomy  forebodings  of  degeneracy  and  corruption, 
but  with    delightful   visions   of  the  advancement 
of  knowledge,  of  the  increase  of  pure  morality, 
and  of  the  happiness  of  man.     It  is  neither  wise 
nor  brave  to  indulge  in  reveries  of  despair  ;  and 
that  man  is  either  feeble,   selfish,  or  vain,   who 
imagines  that  when  he  dies  all  virtue  and  national 
prosperity  will  die  with  him.     That  often  repeat- 
ed ejaculation  of  tbe   dying  statesman,    "  Oh  my 
country,"  is  either  a  proof  of  the  weakness  of  the 
human  mind  in  the  hour  of  dissolution,  or  a  libel 


105 

by  their  friends  on  the  fame  of  the  dead.  It  is  a 
subject  of  as  much  rational  pride  to  believe  that  we 
shall  be  the  progenitors  of  a  worthy  race;,  who  will 
honour  their  day  and  generation,  as  is  the  knowl- 
edge that  we  are  lineally  descended  from  a  virtu- 
ous stock. 

Sumner  was  married  on  the  30th  of  September, 
1779,  to  a  daughter  of  William  Hyslop,  Esq.  of 
Brookline,  formerly  a  distinguished  merchant  in 
Boston,  and  by  her  he  had  a  son  and  two  daugh- 
ters, who  are  now  living.  Mrs.  Sumner  survived 
her  husband  ten  years,  and  died  in  the  year  1809, 
in  Boston,  whither  she  had  removed  from  Roxbury 
in  1806. 

His  person  was  attractive  and  commanding — 
tall,  stout,  and  muscular  ;  his  complexion  and  hair 
were  light,  and  his  eyes  blue.  His  countenance 
was  remarkable  for  composure  and  benignity,  and 
was  often  lighted  up  with  a  smile  of  peculiar 
sweetness.  Many  a  young  practitioner  at  the  bar 
has  borne  testimony  to  the  pleasure  and  relief  he 
felt,  when  he  was  addressing  the  court  in  fear  and 
trembling,  in  catching  the  kind  looks  of  Judge 
Sumner.  They  were  looks  of  encouragement  and 
protection,  which  never  disappointed  the  youthful 
advocate.  Such  courtesies  are  remembered  with 
gratitude  and  admiration,  while  the  cold  and  severe 

14 


106 

gaze,  and  the  sharp  reply  of  authority,  which  per- 
haps blasted  the  early  efforts  of  a  delicate  mind, 
are  recollected  with  resentment  and  contempt. 
This  amenity  of  manners,  which  flowed  from  good- 
ness of  heart,  was  not  occasional  and  rare  with 
him,  but  constantly  entered  into  every  social  rela- 
tion, public  or  private.  It  conciliated  the  affections 
of  the  people  when  he  was  young,  and  secured 
them  through  his  life.  His  fellow  citizens  de- 
lighted to  honour  him  while  living,  and  sincerely 
mourned  him  when  dead.  Intellect,  virtue,  and 
urbanity  united,  form  a  spell  which  seldom  fails  to 
control  the  turbulent  and  malicious,  and  to  charm 
the  peaceable  and  the  wise. 


WARREN. 


JOSEPH  WARREN  was  born  in  Roxbury, 
near  Boston,  in  the  year  1741.  His  father  was  a 
respectable  farmer  in  that  place,  who  had  held 
several  municipal  offices,  to  the  acceptance  of  his 
fellow  citizens.  Joseph,  with  several  of  his  broth- 
ers, was  instructed  in  the  elementary  branches  of 
knowledge,  at  the  public  grammar  school  of  the 
town,  which  was  distinguished  for  its  successive 
instructers  of  superior  attainments.  In  1755,  he 
entered  college,  where  he  sustained  the  character 
of  a  youth  of  talents,  fine  manners,  and  of  a  gener- 
ous, independent  deportment,  united  to  great  per- 
sonal courage  and  perseverance.  An  anecdote 
will  illustrate  his  fearlessness  and  determination 
at  that  age,  when  character  can  hardly  be  said  to 
be  formed.  Several  students  of  Warren's  class 
shut  themselves  in  a  room  to  arrange  some  college 
affairs,  in  a  way  which  they  knew  was  contrary  to 
his  wishes,  and  barred  the  door  so  effectually  that 
he  could  not  without  great  violence  force  it,  but  he 
did  not  give  over   the  attempt  of  getting  among 


108 

tbem,  for  perceiving  that  the  window  of  the  room 
in  which  they  were  assembled  was  open,  and  near 
a  spout  whicli  extended  from  the  roof  of  the  build- 
ing to  the  grountl,  he  went  to  the  top  of  the  house, 
slid  down  to  the  eaves,  seized  the  spout,  and  when 
he  had  descended  as  far  as  the  window,  threw 
himself  into  the  chamber  among  them.  At  that 
instant  the  spout,  which  was  decayed  and  weak, 
gave  way  and  fell  to  the  ground.  He  looked  at  it 
without  emotion,  said  that  it  had  served  his  pur- 
pose, and  began  to  take  his  part  in  the  business. 
A  spectator  of  this  feat,  and  narrow  escape,  related 
this  fact  to  me  in  the  college  yard,  nearly  half  a 
century  afterwards,  and  the  impression  it  made  on 
bis  mind  was  so  strong,  that  he  seemed  to  feel  the 
same  emotion,  as  though  it  happened  but  an  hour 
before. 

On  leaving  college  in  1759,  Warren  turned  his 
attention  to  the  study  of  medicine,  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Doctor  Lloyd,  an  eminent  physician  of 
that  day,  whose  valuable  life  has  been  protracted 
almost  to  the  present  time.  Warren  was  distin- 
guished very  soon  after  he  commenced  practice, 
for  when  in  1764,  the  small  pox  spread  in  Boston, 
he  was  among  the  most  successful  in  his  method 
of  treating  that  disease,  which  was  then  considered 
the  most  dreadful  scourge  of  the  human  race,  and 


109 

the  violence  of  which  had  baffled  the  efforts  of  the 
learned  faculty  of  medicine  from  the  time  of  its 
first  appearance.  From  this  moment  he  stood  high 
among  his  brethren,  and  was  the  favourite  of  the 
people,  and  what  he  gained  in  their  good  will,  he 
never  lost.  His  personal  appearance,  his  address, 
his  courtesy  and  his  humanity,  won  the  way  to  the 
hearts  of  all,  and  his  knowledge  and  superiority  of 
talents  secured  the  conquest.  A  bright  and  last- 
ing fame  in  his  profession,  with  the  attendant  con- 
sequences, wealth  and  influence,  were  within  his 
reach,  and  near  at  hand  ;  but  the  calls  of  a  dis- 
tracted country  were  paramount  to  every  consider- 
ation of  his  own  interests,  and  he  entered  the 
vortex  of  politics,  never  to  return  to  the  peaceful 
course  of  professional  labour. 

The  change  in  public  opinion  had  been  gradu- 
ally preparing  the  minds  of  most  men  for  a  revolu- 
tion. This  was  not  openly  avowed  ;  amelioration 
of  treatment  for  the  present,  and  assurances  of 
kindness  in  future,  were  all  that  the  colonies  asked 
from  Great  Britain — but  these  they  did  not  receive. 
The  mother  country  mistook  the  spirit  of  her  chil- 
dren, and  used  threats  when  kindness  would  have 
been  the  best  policy.  When  Britain  declared  her 
right  to  direct,  govern,  and  tax  us  in  any  form, 
and  at  all  times,  the  colonies  reasoned,  remon- 


110 

gtrated  and  entreated  for  a  while ;   and  when  these 
means  did  not  answer,  they  defied   and  resisted. 
The  political   writers  of  the  province   had  been 
active  and  busy,  but  they  were  generally  screen- 
ed by  fictitious  names,  or   sent  their  productions 
anonymously   into   the  world  ;  but  the  time  had 
arrived  when  speakers  of  nerve  and  boldness  were 
wanted  to  raise  their  voices  against  oppression  in 
every  shape.     Warren  possessed  first  rate  quali- 
ties for  an  orator,  and  had  early  declared  in  the 
strongest    terms   his   political    sentiments,   which 
were  somewhat  in  advance  of  public  opinion,  for 
he  held  as  tyranny  all  taxation,  which  could  be 
imposed  by  the  British  parliament  upon  the  colo- 
nies.    In  times  of  danger,  the   people   are  saga- 
cious, and  cling  to  those  who  best  can  serve  them, 
and  every  eye  was  on  him  in  every  emergency,  for 
he  had  not  only  the  firmness  and  decision  they 
wished  for  in  a  leader,  but  was  prudent  and  wary 
in  all  his  plans.     His  first  object  was  to  enlighten 
the  people,  and  then  he  felt  sure  of  engaging  their 
feelings  in  the   general  cause.     He  knew   when 
once  they  began,  it  would  be  impossible   to  tread 
back — independence  only  would  satisfy  the  coun- 
try.    With  an  intention  of  directing  public  senti- 
ment, without  appearing  to  be  too  active,  he  met 
frequently  with  a  considerable  number  of  substan- 


Ill 

tial  mechanics,  and  others  in  the  middling  classes 
of  society,  who  were  busy  in  politics.     This  crisis 
required  such  a  man  as  they  found  him  to  be,  one 
who    could   discern   the   signs  of  the  times,  and 
mould  the  ductile  materials  to  his  will,  and  at  the 
same  time  seem  only  to  follow  in  the  path  of  others. 
His  letter  to  Barnard,  which  attracted  the  notice 
of  government,   had    been    written    several   years 
before,  in  1768  ;  but  in  som_e  form  or  other  he  was 
constantly  enlightening   the    people    by  his  pen; 
but  it  is  now  difficult,  and  of  no  great  importance, 
to  trace  him  in  the   papers   of  that  period.     The 
public  was  not  then   always  right  in  designating 
the  authors  of  political  essays.     In  the  different 
situations  in  which  he  was  called  to  act,  he  assum- 
ed as  many  characters  as  fable  has  ever  given  to 
the  tutelar  god  of  his  profession,  and  like  him,  in 
every  one  of  them  he  retained  the  wisdom  to  guide, 
and  the  power  to  charm.     At  one  time  he  misht 
be  found  restraining  the  impetuosity,  and  bridling 
the  fury  of  those  hot-headed  politicians,  who  felt 
more  than  they  reasoned,  and  dared   to   do  more 
than  became  men.     Such  was  his  versatility,  that 
he  turned  from  these  lectures  of  caution  and  ])ru- 
dence,  to  asserting  and   defending  the  most  bold 
and  undisguised  principles  of  liberty,  and  defying 
in  their  very  teeth  the  agents  of  the  crown.    Twice 


H2 

he  was  elected  to  deliver  the  oration  on  the  5th  of 
March,  in  commemoration  of  tlfe  massacre,  and  his 
orations  are  among  the  most  distinguished  produc- 
ed by  that  splendid  list  of  speakers  who  addressed 
their  fellow  citizens  on  this  subject  so  interesting 
to  them  all.  In  these  productions  generally  the 
immediate  causes  of  this  event  were  overlooked, 
and  the  remote  ones  alone  were  discussed.  Here 
they  were  on  safe  ground,  for  tyranny  in  its  in- 
cipient stages  has  no  excuse  from  opposition ;  but 
in  its  march  it  generally  finds  some  plausible  ar- 
guments for  its  proceedings,  drawn  from  the  very 
resistance  it  naturally  produces.  These  occasions 
gave  the  orators  a  fine  field  for  remark,  and  a  fair 
opportunity  for  eflPect.  The  great  orators  of  an- 
tiquity in  their  speeches  attempted  only  to  rouse 
the  people  to  retain  what  they  possessed.  Invec- 
tive, entreaty,  and  pride  had  their  efiect  in  assist- 
ing these  mighty  masters  to  influence  the  people. 
They  were  ashamed  to  lose  what  their  fathers  left 
them,  won  by  their  blood,  and  so  long  preserved 
by  their  wisdom,  their  virtues  and  their  courage. 
Our  statesmen  had  a  harder  task  to  perform,  for 
they  were  compelled  to  call  on  the  people  to  gain 
what  they  had  never  enjoyed — an  independent 
rank  and  standing  among  the  nations  of  the 
world. 


113 

His  next  oration  was  delivered  March  6th, 
1775.  It  was  at  his  own  solicitation  that  he  was 
appointed  to  this  duty  a  second  time.  The  fact  is 
illustrative  of  his  character,  and  worthy  of  remem- 
brance. Some  British  officers  of  the  army  then  in 
Boston  had  publicly  declared  that  it  should  be  at 
the  price  of  the  life  of  any  man  to  speak  of  the 
event  of  March  5,  1770,  on  that  anniversary. 
Warren's  soul  took  fire  at  such  a  threat,  so 
openly  made,  and  he  wished  for  the  honour  of 
braving  it.  This  was  readily  granted,  for  at  such 
a  time  a  man  would  probably  find  but  few  rivals. 
Many  who  would  spurn  the  thought  of  personal 
fear,  might  be  apprehensive  that  they  would  be  so 
far  disconcerted  as  to  furget  their  discourse.  It  is 
easier  to  fight  bravely,  than  to  think  clearly  or 
correctly  in  danger.  Passion  sometimes  nerves 
the  arm  to  fight,  but  disturbs  the  regular  current  of 
thought.  The  day  came,  and  the  weather  was 
remarkably  fine.  The  Old  South  Moering-house 
was  crowded  at  an  early  hour.  The  British  offi- 
cers occupied  the  aisles,  the  flight  of  steps  to  the 
pulpit,  and  several  of  them  were  within  it.  It  was 
not  precisely  known  whether  this  was  accident  or 
design.  The  orator  with  the  assistance  of  his 
friends  made  his  entrance  at  the  pulpit  window  by 
a  ladder.  The  officers  seeing  his  coolness  and  in- 
15 


114 

trepidity,  made  way  for  him  to  advance  and  ad- 
dress the  audience.  An  awful  stillness  preceded 
his  exordium.  Each  man  felt  the  palpitations  of 
his  own  heart,  and  saw  the  pale  but  determined 
face  of  his  neighbour.  The  speaker  began  his 
oration  in  a  firm  tone  of  voice,  and  proceeded  with 
great  energy  and  pathos.  Warren  and  his  friends 
were  prepared  to  chastise  contumely,  prevent  dis- 
grace, and  avenge  an  attempt  at  assassination. 

The  scene  was  sublime ;  a  patriot  in  whom  the 
flush  of  youth,  and  the  grace  and  dignity  of  man- 
hood were  combined,  stood  armed  in  the  sanctuary 
of  Grod,  to  animate  and  encourage  the  sons  of 
liberty,  and  to  hurl  defiance  at  their  oppressors. 
The  orator  commenced  with  the  early  history  of 
the  country,  described  the  tenure  by  which  we 
held  our  liberties  and  property — the  aflfection  we 
had  constantly  shown  the  parent  country,  and 
boldly  told  them  how,  and  by  whom  these  blessings 
of  life  had  been  violated.  There  was  in  this  ap- 
peal to  Britain — in  this  description  of  suffering, 
agony  and  horror,  a  calm  and  high-souled  defi- 
ance which  must  have  chilled  the  blood  of  every 
sensible  foe.  Such  another  hour  has  seldom  hap- 
pened in  the  history  of  man,  and  is  not  surpassed 
in  the  records  of  nations.  The  thunders  of  De- 
mosthenes rolled  at  a  distance  from  Philip  and 


115 

hi8  host — and  Tully  poured  the  fiercest  torrent  of 
his  invective  when  Catiline  was  at  a  distance  and 
his  dagger  no  longer  to  be  feared,  but  Warren's 
speech  was  made  to  proud  oppressors  resting  on 
their  arms,  whose  errand  it  was  to  overawe,  and 
whose  business  it  was  to  fight. 

If  the  deed  of  Brutus  deserved  to  be  commem- 
orated by  history,  poetry,  painting  and  sculpture, 
should  not  this  instance  of  patriotism  and  bravery 
be  held  in  lasting  remembrance  ?     If  he 

"  That  struck  the  foremost  man  of  all  this  world," 

was  hailed  as  the  first  of  freemen,  what  honours 
are  not  due  to  him,  who  undismayed  bearded  the 
British  lion,  to  show  the  world  what  his  country- 
men dared  to  do  in  the  cause  of  liberty  ?  If  the 
statue  of  Brutus  was  placed  among  those  of  the 
gods,  who  were  the  preservers  of  Roman  freedom, 
should  not  that  of  Warren  fill  a  lofty  niche  in 
the  temple  reared  to  perpetuate  the  remembrance 
of  our  birth  as  a  nation  ? 

If  Independence  was  not  at  first  openly  avowed 
by  our  leading  men  at  thai  time,  the  hope  of  at- 
taining it  was  fondly  cherished,  and  the  exertions 
of  the  patriots  pointed  to  this  end.  The  wise 
knew  that  the  storm,  which  the  political  Prosperos 
were  raising,  would  pass  away  in   blood.     With 


116 

these  impressions  on  his  mind,  Warren  for 
several  years  was  preparing  himself  by  study 
and  observation  to  take  a  conspicuous  rank  in 
the  military  arrangements  which  he  knew  must 
ensue. 

On  the  18th  of  April,  1775,  by  his  agents  in 
Boston,  he  discovered  the  design  of  the  British 
commander  to  seize  or  destroy  our  few  stores  at 
Concord.  He  instantly  despatched  several  confi- 
dential messensjers  to  Lexington.  The  late  ven- 
erable patriot,  Paul  Revere,  was  one  of  them. 
This  gentleman  has  given  a  very  interesting  ac- 
count of  the  difficulties  he  encountered  in  the  dis- 
charge of  this  duty.  The  alarm  was  given,  and 
the  militia,  burning  with  resentment,  were  at  day- 
break,  on  the  19th,  on  the  road  to  repel  insult  and 
aggression.  The  drama  was  opened  about  sun- 
rise, within  a  few  yards  of  the  house  of  God,  in 
Lexington.  Warren  hastened  to  the  field  of 
action,  in  the  full  ardour  of  his  soul,  and  shared 
the  dangers  of  the  day.  While  pressing  on  the 
enemy,  a  musket  ball  took  oif  a  lock  of  his  hair 
close  to  his  ear.  The  lock  was  rolled  and  pinned, 
after  the  fashion  of  that  day,  and  considerable  force 
must  have  been  necessary  to  have  cut  it  away. 
The  people  were  delighted  with  his  cool,  collected 
bravery,  and  already  considered  him  as  a  leader. 


117 

whose  gallantry  they  were  to  admire,  and  in  whose 
talents  they  were  to  confide.  On  the  14th  of  June, 
1775,  the  Provincial  Congress  of  Massachusetts 
made  him  a  major-general  of  their  forces,  but  pre- 
vious to  the  date  of  his  commission,  he  had  been 
unceasing  in  his  exertions  to  maintain  order  and 
enforce  discipline  among  the  troops,  which  had 
hastily  assembled  at  Cambridge,  after  the  battle  of 
Lexington.  He  mingled  in  the  ranks,  and  by 
every  method  and  argument  strove  to  inspire  them 
with  confidence,  and  succeeded  in  a  most  wonder- 
ful manner  in  imparting  to  them  a  portion  of  the 
flame  which  glowed  in  his  own  breast.  At  such  a 
crisis  genius  receives  its  birth-right — the  homage 
of  inferior  minds,  who  for  self-preservation  are 
willing  to  be  directed.  Previous  to  receiving  the 
appointment  of  major-general,  he  had  been  re- 
quested to  take  the  office  of  physician-general  to 
the  army,  but  he  chose  to  be  where  wounds  were 
to  be  made,  rather  than  where  they  were  to  be 
healed.  Yet  he  lent  his  aid  and  advice  to  the 
medical  department  of  the  army,  and  was  of  great 
service  to  them  in  their  organization  and  arrange- 
ments. 

He  was  at  this  time  President  of  the  Provincial 
Congress,  having  been  elected  the  preceding  year 
a  member  from  the  town  of  Boston.     In  this  body 


118 

he  discovered  his  extraordinary  powers  of  mind; 
and  his  peculiar  fitness  for  responsible  offices  at 
such  a  juncture.  Cautious  in  proposing  measures, 
he  was  assiduous  in  pursuing  what  he  thought, 
after  mature  deliberation  to  be  right,  and  never 
counted  the  probable  cost  of  a  measure,  when  he 
had  decided  that  it  was  necessary  to  be  taken. 
When  this  Congress,  which  was  sitting  at  Water- 
town,  adjourned  for  the  day,  he  mounted  his  horse 
and  hastened  to  the  camp.  Every  day  "  he  bought 
golden  opinions  of  all  sorts  of  men  ;"  and  when 
the  troops  were  called  to  act  on  Breed's  Hill,  he 
had  so  often  been  among  them,  that  his  person 
was  known  to  most  of  the  soldiers. 

Several  respectable  historians  have  fallen  into 
some  errors  in  describing  the  battle  in  which  he 
fell,  by  giving  the  command  of  the  troops  on  that 
day  to  Warren,  when  he  was  only  a  volunteer  in 
the  fight.  He  did  not  arrive  on  the  battle  ground 
until  the  enemy  had  commenced  their  movements 
for  the  attack.  As  soon  as  he  made  his  appearance 
on  the  field,  the  veteran  commander  of  the  day, 
colonel  Prescott,  desired  to  act  under  his  direc- 
tions,  but  Warren  declined  taking  any  other  part 
than  that  of  a  volunteer,  and  added  that  he  came 
to  learn  the  art  of  war  from  an  experienced  soldier, 
whose  orders  he  should  be  happy  to  obey.     In  the 


119 

battle  he  was  armed  with  a  musket^  and  stood  ia 
the  ranks;  now  and  then  changing  his  place  to  en- 
courage his  fellow  soldiers  by  words  and  example. 
He  undoubtedly,  from  the  state  of  hostilities,  ex- 
pected soon  to  act  in  his  high  military  capacity, 
and  it  was  indispensable,  according  to  his  views, 
that  he  should  share  the  dangers  of  the  field  as  a 
common  soldier  with  his  fellow  citizens,  that  his 
reputation  for  bravery  might  be  put  beyond  the 
possibility  of  suspicion.  The  wisdom  of  such  a 
course  would  never  have  been  doubted,  if  he  had 
returned  in  safety  from  the  fight.  In  such  a 
struggle  for  independence,  the  ordinary  rules  of 
prudence  and  caution  could  not  govern  those  who 
were  building  up  their  names  for  future  usefulness 
by  present  exertion.  Some  maxims  drawn  from 
the  republican  writers  of  antiquity  were  worn  as 
their  mottos.  Some  precepts  descriptive  of  the 
charms  of  liberty,  were  ever  on  their  tongues,  and 
some  classical  model  of  Greek,  or  Roman  patriot- 
ism, was  constantly  in  their  minds.  Instances  of 
great  men  mixing  in  the  ranks  of  common  soldiers, 
were  to  be  found  in  ancient  times,  when  men 
fought  for  their  altars  and  their  homes.  The  cases 
were  parallel,  and  the  examples  were  imposing. 
When  the  battle  was  decided,  and  our  people  fled, 
Warren  was  one  of  the  last  who  left  the  breast- 


120 

work,  and  was  slain  within  a  few  yards  of  it,  as 
he  was  slowly  retiring.  He  probably  felt  mor- 
tified at  the  event  of  the  day,  but  had  he  known 
how  dearly  the  victory  was  purchased,  and  how 
little  honour  was  gained  by  those  who  won  it,  his 
heart  might  have  been  at  rest.  Like  the  band  of 
Leonidas,  the  vanquished  have  received  by  the 
judgment  of  nations,  from  which  there  is  no  appeal, 
the  imperishable  laurels  of  victors.  His  death 
brought  a  sickness  to  the  heart  of  the  community, 
and  the  people  mourned  his  fall,  not  with  the  con- 
vulsive agony  of  a  betrothed  virgin  over  the  bleed- 
ing corse  of  her  lover — but  with  the  pride  of  the 
Spartan  mother,  who  in  the  intensity  of  her  grief, 
smiled  to  see  that  the  wounds  whence  life  had 
flown,  were  on  the  breast  of  her  son — and  was 
satisfied  that  he  had  died  in  defence  of  his  coun- 
try. The  worth  of  the  victim,  and  the  horror  of 
the  sacrifice  gave  a  higher  value  to  our  liberties, 
and  produced  a  more  fixed  determination  to  pre- 
serve them. 

The  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  has  often  been  des- 
cribed, and  of  late  its  minutest  details  given  to 
the  public,  but  never  was  the  military,  moral  and 
political  character  of  that  great  event  move  forci- 
bly drawn,  than  in  the  following  extract  from  the 
North  American  Review,  for  July,  1818. 


121 

<^The  iDciilents  and  the  result  of  the  battle  itself 
were  most  important,  and  indeed  most  wonderful. 
As  a  mere  battle,  few  surpass  it  in  whatever  en- 
gages and  interests  the  attention.  It  was  fought, 
on  a  conspicuous  eminence,  in  the  immediate 
neighbourhood  of  a  populous  city ;  and  conse- 
quently in  the  view  of  thousands  of  spectators. 
The  attacking  array  moved  over  a  sheet  of  water  to 
the  assault.  The  operations  and  movements  were 
of  course  all  visible  and  all  distinct.  Those  who 
looked  on  from  the  houses  and  heights  of  Boston 
had  a  fuller  view  of  every  important  operation  and 
event,  than  can  ordinarily  be  had  of  any  battle,  or 
than  can  possibly  be  had  of  such  as  are  fought  on 
a  more  extended  ground,  or  by  detachments  of 
troops  acting  in  different  places,  and  at  different 
times,  and  in  some  measure  independently  of  each 
other.  When  the  British  columns  were  advanc- 
ing to  the  attack,  the  flames  of  Charlestown,  (fired, 
as  is  generally  supposed,  by  a  shell,)  began  to 
ascend.  The  spectators,  far  out-numbering  both 
armies,  thronged  and  crowded  on  every  height  and 
every  point  which  afforded  a  view  of  the  scene, 
themselves  constituted  a  very  important  part  of  it. 

"  The  troops  of  the  two  armies  seemed  like  so 
many  combatants  in  an  amphitheatre.  The  man- 
ner in  which  they  should  acquit  themselves,  was 

16 


122 

to  be  judged  of,  not  as  in  other  cases  of  military 
engagements,  by  reports  and  future  history,  but  by 
a  vast  and  anxious  assembly  already  on  the  spot, 
and  waiting  with  unspeakable  concern  and  emo- 
tion the  progress  of  the  day. 

^^  In  other  battles  the  recollection  of  wives  and 
children,  has  been  used  as  an  excitement  to  ani- 
mate the  warrior's  breast  and  nerve  his  arm. 
Here  was  not  a  mere  recollection,  but  an  actual 
presence  of  them,  and  other  dear  connexions, 
hanging  on  the  skirts  of  the  battle,  anxious  and 
agitated,  feeling  almost  as  if  wounded  themselves 
by  every  blow  of  the  enemy,  and  putting  forth,  as 
it  were,  their  own  strength,  and  all  the  energy  of 
their  own  throbbing  bosoms,  into  every  gallant 
effort  of  their  warring  friends. 

"  But  there  was  a  more  comprehensive  and 
vastly  more  important  view  of  that  day's  contest, 
than  has  been  mentioned, — a  view,  indeed,  which 
ordinary  eyes,  bent  intently  on  what  was  imme- 
diately before  them,  did  not  embrace,  but  which 
was  perceived  in  its  full  extent  and  expansion  by 
minds  of  a  higher  order.  Those  men  who  were 
at  the  head  of  the  colonial  councils,  who  had  been 
engaged  for  years  in  the  previous  stages  of  the 
quarrel  with  England,  and  who  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  look  forward  to  the  future,   were  well 


123 

apprised  of  the  magDitude  of  the  events  likely  to 
hang  on  the  business  of  that  day.  They  saw  in 
it  not  only  a  battle,  but  the  beginning  of  a  civil 
war,  of  unmeasured  extent  and  uncertain  issue. 
All  America  and  all  England  were  likely  to  be 
deeply  concerned  in  the  consequences.  The  indi- 
viduals themselves,  who  knew  full  well  what 
agency  they  had  had,  in  bringing  affairs  to  this 
crisis,  had  need  of  all  their  courage  ; — not  that 
disregard  of  personal  safely,  in  which  the  vulgar 
suppose  true  courage  to  consist,  but  that  high  and 
fixed  moral  sentiment,  that  steady  and  decided 
purpose,  which  enables  men  to  pursue  a  distant 
end,  with  a  full  view  of  the  difficulties  and  dan- 
gers before  them,  and  with  a  conviction,  that, 
before  they  arrive  at  the  proposed  end,  should  they 
ever  reach  it,  they  must  pass  through  evil  report 
as  well  as  good  report,  and  be  liable  to  obloquy, 
as  well  as  to  defeat. 

'^  Spirits,  that  fear  nothing  else,  fear  disgrace  ; 
and  this  danger  is  necessarily  encountered  by  those 
who  engage  in  civil  war.  Unsuccessful  resistance 
is  not  only  ruin  to  its  authors,  but  is  esteemed,  and 
necessarily  so,  by  the  laws  of  all  countries,  trea- 
sonable. Tills  is  the  case,  at  least  till  resistance 
becomes  so  general  and  formidable,  as  to  assume 
the  form  of  regular  war.     But  who  can  tell,  when 


124 

resistance  commences,  whether  it  will  attain  even 
to  that  degree  of  success  ?  Some  of  those  persons 
who  signed  the  Declaration  of  Independence  in 
1776,  described  tliemselves  as  signing  it,  "  as  with 
halters  about  their  necks."  If  there  were  grounds 
for  this  remark  in  1776,  when  the  cause  had  be- 
come so  much  more  general,  how  much  greater 
was  the  hazard,  when  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill 
was  fought? 

"  Tliese  considerations  constituted,  to  enlarged 
and  liberal  minds,  the  moral  sublimity  of  the 
occasion  ;  while  to  the  outward  senses  the  move- 
ment of  armies,  the  roar  of  artillery,  tlie  brilliancy 
of  the  reflection  of  a  summer's  sun,  from  the  bur- 
nished armour  of  the  British  columns,  and  the 
flames  of  a  burning  town,  made  up  a  scene  of 
extraordinary  grandeur." 

This  eminence  has  become  sacred  ground.  It 
contains  in  its  bosom  the  ashes  of  the  brave  who 
died  fighting  to  defend  their  altars  and  their  homes. 
Strangers  from  all  countries  visit  this  spot,  for  it 
is  associated  in  their  memories  with  Marathon  and 
Plat^se,  and  all  the  mighty  struggles  of  determin- 
ed  freemen.  Our  citizens  love  to  wander  over 
this  field — the  aged  to  awake  recollections,  and 
the  youtliful  to  excite  heroic  emotions.  The 
battle-ground  is  now  all  plainly  to  be  seen — the 


125 

spirit  of  modern  improvement,  which  would  stop 
the  streams  of  Helicon  to  turn  a  mill,  and  cause  to 
be  felled  the  trees  of  Paradise  to  make  a  rafter, 
has  yet  spared  this  hallowed  height. 

If  "  the  days  of  chivalry  be  gone  forever,"  and 
the  high  and  enthusiastic  feelings  of  generosity 
and  magnanimity  be  not  so  widely  diffused  as  in 
more  heroic  ages,  yet  it  cannot  be  denied  but  that 
there  have  been,  and  still  are,  individuals  whose 
bosoms  are  warmed  with  a  spirit  as  glowing  and 
ethereal,  as  ever  swelled  the  heart  of  "mailed 
knight,"  who  in  the  ecstasies  of  love,  religion  and 
martial  glory,  joined  the  w^ar-cry  on  the  plains  of 
Palestine,  or  proved  his  steel  on  the  infidel  foe. 
The  history  of  every  revolution  is  interspersed 
with  brilliant  episodes  of  individual  prowess. 
The  pages  of  our  own  history,  when  fully  written 
out,  will  sparkle  profusely  with  these  gems  of 
romantic  valour. 

The  calmness  and  indifference  of  the  veteran 
"  in  clouds  of  dust  and  seas  of  blood,"  can  only 
be  acquired  by  long  acquaintance  with  the  trade  of 
death  ;  but  the  heights  of  Charlestown  will  bear 
eternal  testimony  how  suddenly  in  the  cause  of 
freedom  the  peaceful  citizen  can  become  the  in- 
vincible warrior — stung  by  oppression,  he  springs 
forward  from  his  tranquil  pursuits,  undaunted  by 


126 

opposition,  and  undismayed  by  danger,  to  fight 
even  to  death  for  the  defence  of  his  riajhts.  Par- 
ents, wives,  children,  and  country,  all  the  hallow- 
ed properties  of  existence,  are  to  him  the  talisman 
that  takes  fear  from  his  heart,  and  nerves  his  arm 
to  victory. 

In  the  requiem  over  those  who  have  fallen  in 
the  cause  of  their  country,  which 

"  Time  with  his  own  eternal  lips  shall  sing," 

the  praises  of  Warren  shall  be  distinctly  heard. 

The  blood  of  those  patriots  who  have  fallen  in 
the  defence  of  Republics  has  often  "  cried  from 
the  ground"  against  the  ingratitude  of  the  country 
for  which  it  was  shed.  No  monument  was  reared 
to  their  fame  ;  no  record  of  their  virtues  written  ; 
no  fostering  hand  extended  to  their  oflfspring — but 
they  and  their  deeds  were  neglected  and  forgotten. 
Towards  Warren  there  was  no  ingratitude — our 
country  is  free  from  this  stain.  Congress  were 
the  guardians  of  his  honour,  and  remembered  that 
his  children  were  unprotected  orphans.  Within 
a  year  after  his  death.  Congress  passed  the  follow- 
ing resolutions. 

"That  a  monument  be  erected  to  the  memory 
of  General  Warren,  in  the  town  of  Boston,  with 
the  following  inscription  :— - 


127 


IN    HONOR   OF 

JOSEPH  WARREN, 

MAJOR-GENERAL  OF  MASSACHUSETTS  BAY. 

HE   DEVOTED    HIS    LIFE    TO    THE    LIBERTIES    OB    HIS    COUNTRT, 
AND  IN  BRAVELY  DEFENDING  THEM,  FELL  AN  EARLY  VICTIM  IN  THE 

BATTLE  OF  BUNKER  HILL, 
JUNE  i7,  1775. 

The  Congress  of  the  United  States,  as  an  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  services  and  distinguished  merit,  have 
erected  this  monument  to  his  memory. 

It  was  resolved  likewise,  "  That  the  eldest  son 
of  General  Warren  should  be  educated  from  that 
time  at  the  expense  of  the  United  States.'^  On 
the  first  of  July,  178O,  Congress  recognizing  these 
former  resolutions,  further  resolved,  "  That  it 
should  be  recommended  to  the  Executive  of  Mas- 
sachusetts Bay  to  make  provision  for  the  mainte- 
nance and  education  of  his  three  younger  children. 
And  that  CoBgress  would  defray  the  expense  to 
the  amount  of  the  half  pay  of  a  myjor-general,  to 
commence  at  the  time  of  his  death,  and  continue 


12S 

till  the  youngest  of  the  children  should  be  of  age." 
The  part  of  the  resolutions  relating  to  the  educa- 
tion of  the  children,  was  carried  into  effect  accord- 
ingly. The  monument  is  not  yet  erected,  but  it 
is  not  too  late.  The  shade  of  Warren  will  not 
repine  at  this  neglect,  while  the  ashes  of  Wash- 
iNGTON  repose  without  grave- stone  or  epitaph. 


GREEN,  AND  OTHERS. 


TO  laugh  and  to  cry  are  prerogatives  of  our 
nature,  and  probably  we  should  as  often  weep  as 
smile  if  pride  did  not  bid  us  hide  our  sorrows,  and 
politeness  and  benevolence  did  not  lead  us  to  pre- 
fer the  diffusing  of  pleasure,  to  requiring  sympathy 
for  pain. 

He  is  certainly  a  greater  benefactor  of  mankind 
who  collects  pleasant  images  and  traces  delightful 
associations,  than  the  writer  who  ransacks  history 
for  facts,  or  tortures  invention  for  a  tale  to  lacerate 
the  heart,  or  to  shew  us  to  what  miseries  we  were 
born.  He  who  adds  to  the  stock  of  innocent 
amusement  in  the  literary  world,  and  leaves  ou 
record  in  prose  or  verse  whatever  will  raise  the 
laugh  at  vanity,  folly  and  superstition,  should  be 
remembered  with  gratitude,  and  his  monument 
placed  by  the  side  of  his,  who  successfully  taught 
the  doctrines  of  fortitude,  resignation  and  hope. 
1  feel  a  higher  sense  of  obligation  to  such  writers 
as  Cervantes,  Le  Sage  and  SmoUet,  than  to  the 
authors  of  ten  thousand  tales  of  horrors,  over 
17 


130 

ivhose  labours  I  have  hurried  and  wept  until  every 
thing  around  me  seemed  changed  to  gloom  and 
waste — until  the  air  had  lost  its  fragrance,  and 
the  blessed  sun  ^^  no  longer  sent  a  summer  feeling 
to  the  heart."  But  thanks  to  the  progress  of 
common  sense,  these  sickly  witlings  and  strange 
monsters  of  false  sentiment  have  had  their  day 
and  are  mostly  gone.  But  if  a  few  of  these  writers 
still  remain,  their  spell  upon  the  mind  is  broken, 
and  we  turn  with  loathing  and  horror  from  these 
banquets  of  skulls,  at  which  we  once  revelled  with 
vampire  appetite.  The  class  of  writers  who  now 
attract  our  attention,  make  a  lasting  impression 
on  our  imagination,  and  control  our  judgment  in 
matters  of  taste,  are  of  a  better  sort.  They  advo- 
cate a  higher  philosophy,  shew  a  deeper  acquaint- 
ance with  human  nature,  and  course  the  fields  of 
fancy  and  the  regions  of  fiction  with  a  bolder  flight 
and  stronger  wing,  than  those  who  did  so  much 
mischief  as  they  passed. 

The  fugitive  pieces  of  the  poetical  humourists, 
and  tlie  patriotic  and  national  songs,  which  are  scat- 
tered through  the  land  by  every  ephemeral  publi- 
cation in  times  of  excitement,  produce  much  more 
effect  on  the  public  mind,  than  perhaps  is  even  at- 
tributed to  them  j  they  are  read  by  all,  and  remem- 
bered by  many.     By  deriding  what  we  should  op- 


131 

pose,  and  extolling  what  we  onglit  to  respect,  these 
short  productions,  which  are  readily  called  to  mind^ 
serve  as  substitutes  for  a  more  enlarged  sense  of 
duty  in  those  who  have  but  little  time  to  think. 
The  soldier  is  as  likely  to  be  enamoured  with  an 
elevated  sentiment  as  the  philosopher,  and  the 
former  can  feel  sooner  than  the  latter  can  reason. 
Among  the  authors  of  those  national  effusions  of 
the  last  century  to  whom  we  owe  much,  was 
Joseph  Green,  a  name  which  has  long  been 
familiar  to  every  lover  of  mirth  and  playful  satire. 
He  was  born  in  Boston,  in  I7O6,  and  graduated  at 
Harvard  University  in  1726.  Not  being  inclined 
to  enter  any  one  of  the  learned  professions,  lie  ' 
commenced  business  as  a  merchant.  Trade  at 
that  time  flowed  in  regular  channels,  and  of  course 
there  was  not  so  much  risk  as  in  this  present  day 
of  enterprise  and  vigourous  competition.  He  pur- 
sued his  calling  steadily,  but  had  considerable 
leisure  to  attend  to  his  classical  studies,  of  which 
he  was  a  constant  votary.  His  circle  of  friends 
was  not  large,  but  was  happily  assimilated  in  taste 
and  pursuits.  Their  serious  productions  are  for- 
gotten, but  some  of  their  light  and  playful  pieces 
have  survived  them.  This  club  of  wits  watched 
every  passing  event,  from  the  highest  labour  of 
the  statesman,  to  the  smallest  occurrences  of  the 


132 

hour,  and  turned  every  thing  to  merriment  that 
was  susceptible  of  it. 

The  world  at  any  time  affords  enough  to  praise 
or  blame,  enough  to  make  us  grave  or  gay,  which- 
ever way  we  look.     The  store-house  is  sufficiently 
filled  to  gratify  every  disposition.     Notwithstand- 
ing Gtreen's  fondness  for  mirth,  and  his  disposition 
to  engage  in  pleasure,  his  demeanor  had  nothing 
in  it  that  savoured  of  levity  and  thoughtlessness, 
either  as  a  man  or  a  citizen  ;  and  it  docs  not  fol- 
low that  because  men  are  mirthful,  they  are  not 
serious.     Wit,  it  is  true,  is  sometimes  found  with 
profligacy,  but  she  is  also  the  companion  of  wis- 
dom ;  and   the  purest  and  most  severe   will   not 
deny  that   "  he  who  gives   no  day  to  vice,  may 
laugh  an  hour  away."     He  was  a  retired,  modest, 
unambitious,  religious   man,  an  enemy  to   parade 
and  bustle,  yet  a  bold  opposer  of  arbitrary  power, 
and  a  firm  supporter  of  rational  liberty.    Belcher 
felt  the  keen  satire  of  Green  and  his  associates. 
Not  a  speech  or  message  came  from  the  governor, 
that  they  did  not  ridicule  in  every  form  of  prose 
and  verse,  nor  did  they  spare  the  legislature  when 
they  thought  that  that  body  acted  wrongly.     In 
1774,  when  the  British  parliament  passed  the  act 
depriving  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts  of 
her  chartered   rights,   and   the  counsellors   were 


133 

appointed  by   mandamus,   Green  was  called  to 
assist  the  governor  in  that  capacity,  but  he  instantly 
declined  the  honour,  and  resigned  bis  seat.    Some 
said    this   was    a  stroke    of  policy  in  (xage   to 
conciliate  Green,  and  surely  it  was  not  very  com- 
fortable to  have  him  for  an  enemy.     Others  were 
of  opinion  that  at  that  time  Green  was  apprehen- 
sive that  he  had  gone  too  far  in  exciting  oppositioa 
to  the  mother  country,  and  had  in  some  incautious 
moment  avowed  it.     He  probably  was  fearful  of 
the  consequences  of  a  revolution,  which  he  theu 
saw  was   inevitable,  for  it   must  be   recollected, 
that  he  was  then  an  old  man,  and  his  health,  if 
not  his  faculties,  was  on   the  decline.     The  next 
year,  1775,  he  left  Boston  for  England,  where  he 
resided  as  long  as  he  lived  in  seclusion,  but  sur- 
rounded by  every  comfort  that  opulence  could  give. 
Hospitality   and  generosity   never  deserted  him. 
He  loved  his  country,  but  the  agitations  of  a  revo- 
lution,  which  began  with  such   fury   before   his 
eyes,  and  at  his  door,  was  too  much  for  the  nerves 
of  an  old  man  of  literary  and  retired  habits. 

The  beginning  of  hostilities  was  awful  and  the 
end  was  doubtful,  and  he  wished  not  to  go  down 
to  the  grave  in  blood.  The  people  were  grateful 
for  his  past  services,  and  never  vilified  his  name 
for  the  step  he  had  taken,  but  it  was/orgiven  as  a 


134 

weakness   of  age.      His  works  were  as   widely 
scattered  as  the  leaves  of  the  Sybil,  so  that  but  a 
few  of  them  can  readily  be  found  at  the  present 
day.      His    "  Elegy   on    the   death   of  Mr.  Old 
Tenor,"   is  a  fine   mock  lamentation.     This  has 
been  several  times   printed,  as  also   his   ^^  Satire 
upon  the  procession  of  Free  Masons,"  which  is  in 
two  parts,  and  was  probably  written  on  different 
occasions,  and  is  a  good  specimen  of  his  sarcastic 
powers.     The  Masons  were  among  the  first  to  join 
in  the   merriment  it   afforded,  for  the   shafts    of 
satire,  which  shoot  folly  dead,  and  gall  avarice 
and  ambition,  fall  harmless  at  the  feet  of  charity. 
Her  bosom  "  is  armed  too  strong  in  honesty,"  to 
feel  the  taunts,  or  to  shrink  from  the  laugh  of  the 
world.     A  great  many  scraps  of  his  poetry,  epi- 
taphs,   acrostics,  epigrams,  and  other  occasional 
pieces,  are  now  found  in  manuscript,  and  in  the 
magazines  of  the  day.     The  lines  on  Checkley 
are   more  rare  than  many  others   from  his   pen. 
<^  John  Checkley  was  one  of  the  wits  of  his  time, 
and  a  very  benevolent,  good  man,  (he  died  1753.) 
When  recovering  from  a  long  and  dangerous  sick- 
ness,  a  number  of  his  friends,  who  like  himself 
were  men  of  humour,  by  accident  met  at  his  house. 
His  countenance,  naturally  very  ugly,  by  sickness 
was  rendered  hideous.     It  was  proposed  that  he 


135 

should  sit  for  his  portrait  to  Smibert;  an  etiiinent 
artist  in  Bostoti,  to  which  he  gave  his  assent. 
Joseph  Green  was  one  of  the  company,  and  it 
was  requested  that  he  would  sketch  a  few  lines  to 
be  placed  under  it.  Green  sat  down  and  wrote 
as  follows  :" 

"  John,  had  thy  sickness  snatch'd  thee  from  our  sight, 

And  sent  thee  to  the  realms  of  endless  night, 

Posterity  would  then  have  never  known 

Thine  eye — thy  beard — thy  cowl  and  shaven  crown. 

But  now  redeemed,  by  Smibert's  skilful  hand, 

Of  immortality  secure  you  stand. 

When  Nature  into  ruin  shall  be  hurl'd. 

And  the  last  conflagration  burn  the  world. 

This  piece  shall  then  survive  the  general  evil, 

For  flames  we  know  cannot  consume  the  Devil." 

The  wits  of  his  club  sometimes  turned  upon 
their  leader  with  some  point  and  effect.  The  epi- 
taph on  Green  written  by  one  of  them  in  1743,  is 
a  proof  that  like  the  characters  in  the  "  Retalia- 
tion,''  they  understood  one  another — 

"  Siste  Viator,  here  lies  one, 

Whose  life  was  whim,  whose  soul  was  pini, 

And  if  you  go  too  near  his  hearse 

He'll  joke  you,  both  in  prose  and  verse." 

Poets  have  been  found  in  every  age  and  nation. 
Long  before  the  invention  of  letters,  the  muse  had 
built  the  lofty  epic  to  commemorate  the  deeds  of 
heroes  and  demi-gods,  and  breathed   the  dirge  in 


V7 


136 

goft  and  mournful  strains,  over  the  ashes  of  the 
beautiful  and  the  brave.     These,   with   unhappy 
loves  and  untoward  fates,  have  floated  down  the 
stream  of  time,  to  rouse  the  soul  to  deeds  of  val- 
our and  to  purify  the  affections,  mingled  with  the 
comic  and  the  gay  to  quicken  the  wits  and  cheer 
the  spirits.     The   poetry   of  an   unlettered,  or  a 
highly  polished  people  has  ever  been  considered 
a  fair  criterion  of  national  character.     In  every 
stage  of   civilization,    between    the   extremes   of 
savage  and  enlightened  society,  it  cannot  be  relied 
on  as  so  accurate  a  standard,  but  in  all  degrees 
of  refinement  something  may  be  gathered  of  the 
actions,  thoughts,  feelings  and  hopes  of  a  people 
tfrom   their  poetry.    '  The    early  poetry  of  New 
England  was  of  a  peculiar  cast.     It  might  have 
been  supposed  from  the  romantic  situation  of  our 
forefathers,   and   their   incessant    reading   of  the 
Bible,  that  their  poetry  would  have  shown  some- 
thing of   a   wild   and   splendid   character  ;    but 
the   hallowed  coal,  which  burned  on  the  lips  of 
Isaiah,  never  touched  theirs.     They  caught  noth- 
ing of  the  spirit  of  the  scripture  bards  and  seem- 
ed equally  to    shun    the  enchanting  beauties   of 
oriental  imagery  and  the  sweet  simplicity  of  prim- 
itive   conceptions.     Nor   had    their  verses  much 
of  refinement  and  polish  about  them,  but  in  gen- 


^  137 

eral  were  stiff  and  quaint.  The  awful  severity 
of  religious  sentiment  destroyed  the  natural  inspi- 
ration of  genius.  The  dread  of  being  thought  pro- 
fane chilled  every  lively  feeling  and  repressed  the 
sallies  of  wit  and  mirth.  Still  poetry  was  culti- 
vated as  an  art^  and  a  knowledge  of  its  rules  was 
studied  by  every  one  who  pursued  a  liberal  profes- 
sion. The  clergy  of  that  day  were  adepts  in  the 
"  art  divine,"  and  could  make  verses  on  all  occa- 
sions. When  called  upon  in  the  course  of  profes- 
sional duty  to  pronounce  an  eulogy  on  the  virtues 
of  a  deceased  brother  or  distinguished  member  of 
his  flock,  the  pastor  frequently  poured  out  his  grief 
in  rhyme,  generally  fashioned  on  those  immortal 
models,  Sternhold  and  Hopkins.  There  were 
occasionally  scintillations  of  a  better  taste ;  but 
they  illumined  the  darkness  only  for  a  moment 
and  fell  on  nothing  that  would  serve  to  kindle  a 
flame.  At  this  time  however,  the  general  character 
of  English  poetry  was  not  much  better  than  our 
own  ;  Chaucer,  Spenser,  Shakspeare  and  Milton 
are  splendid  exceptions  ;  others  of  some  note  in 
their  day  occasionally  appeared,  but  the  common 
metrical  productions  had  very  little  in  them  worthy 
of  the  name  of  poetry,  until  after  the  expulsion  of 
the  Stuarts.  In  that  period  of  excitement  in 
which  men  read  and  thought  and  began  to  under- 
13 


138 

stand  their  rights  ;  in  that  period  preceding  the 
dawn  of  the  American  revolution,  when  poetry 
was  brought  in  aid  of  prose  and  eloquence  to  warm 
the  heart  and  enlighten  the  mind,  the  shackles  of 
the  muse  were  broken  and  she  wandered  at  large, 
and  sported  in  every  form  of  unrestrained  freedom. 
This  liberty  was  favourable  to  genius,  but  it  was 
long  before  a  good  taste  could  be  found  gaining 
ground.  Since  our  independence  and  the  estab- 
lishment of  our  civil  institutions,  we  have  been  too 
busy  to  devote  much  time  to  poetry  or  the  fine  arts. 
But  within  a  few  years  past  numerous  candidates 
for  poetic  fame  have  arisen,  but  as  most  of  them 
are  still  living,  and  their  labours  of  course  unfin- 
ished, it  would  not  comport  with  my  plan  in  this 
work  to  discuss  their  merits.  I  leave  them  with 
the  wish  that  they  may  gain  for  us  that  proud  dis- 
tinction in  the  republic  of  letters,  that  our  military 
and  naval  prowess  has  secured  to  us  in  the  annals 
of  war,  and  proceed  to  give  a  hasty  sketch  of  a 
few  poets  who  have  in  dilferent  periods  of  our  his- 
,^      tory  given  some  proofs  of  their  talents. 

JOHN  ELIOT,  commonly  called  the  apostle  to 
the  Indians,  was  one  of  our  earliest  poets,  he  flour- 
ished in  the  first  period  of  the  settlement  of  the 
country.    With  the  assistance  of  Richard  Math- 


139 

ER,  of  Dorchester,  he  made  a  version  of  the  Psalms, 
which  was  used  in  the  churches  for  many  years. 
They  were  suited  to  the  times.  Thousands  have 
sung  them  with  devotion.  The  sacred  melodies 
of  the  present  refined  age  of  poetry  will  seldom  be 
breathed  with  such  zeal  and  devotion  as  these 
homely  psalms  were  in  those  days  of  primitive 
simplicity.  Eliot  and  his  coadjutor  were  men  of 
talents,  not  deficient  in  imagination,  but  they  had 
no  models  of  taste  or  beauty.  Their  psalms  have 
been  so  often  printed  in  New  England,  that  it  is 
unnecessary  to  introduce  a  specimen  of  the  work. 
The  fame  of  this  apostle  to  the  Indians  has  come 
down  to  us  more  by  his  exertions  to  spread  the 
gospel  among  them,  and  translating  the  scripture 
into  their  language,  than  by  his  poetical  works. 

COTTON  MATHER,  who  in  his  generation 
was  considered  as  a  prodigy  of  learning,  was  also 
a  poet.  He  graduated  1678,  and  died  1728.  His 
invention  was  prolific.  Illustrations,  similies  and 
all  the  stores  of  classical  erudition  were  at  his 
command,  but  he  was  scholastic,  pedantic  and  af- 
fected, and  an  incorrigible  lover  of  conceits  and 
puns  ;  but  such  was  his  reputation  in  church  and 
state  for  knowledge,  piety  and  patriotism,  that  his 
style   was   generally  imitated    for  nearly    half  a 


140 

century.  His  elegy  on  his  old  school- master, 
EzEKiEL  Cheever,  is  a  very  fair  specimen  of  his 
poetry. 

"  A  mighty  tribe  of  well  instructed  youth 
Tell  what  they  owe  to  him,  and  tell  with  truth. 
All  the  eight  parts  of  speech  he  taught  to  them 
They  now  employ  to  trumpet  his  esteem. 
Magister  pleas'd  them  well,  because  'twas  he  ; 
They  say  that  bonus  did  with  it  agree. 
While  they  said  Amo,  they'd  the  hint  improve 
Him  for  to  make  the  object  of  their  love. 
No  concord  so  inviolate  they  knew, 
As  to  pay  honours  to  their  master  due. 
With  interjections  they  break  off  at  last, 
But,  ah  is  all  they  use,  wo,  and  alas !" 

In  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  FRANCIS 
KNAPP,  who  resided  in  Watertown,  near  Boston, 
wrote  several  pieces  of  poetry  and  music,  which 
were  published  in  England.  He  was  educated 
there,  and  if  his  muse  is  to  be  credited,  he  never 
forgot  his  wanderings  on  the  banks  of  Isis  and 
Cam,  on  account  of  any  pleasures  he  found  in  the 
new  world,  nor  ever  was  reconciled  to  the  soli- 
tudes he  inhabited,  or  became  enamoured  of  the 
liberty  of  conscience  in  these  '^  wilds  remote  from 
public  view."  Being  acquainted  with  Pope,  the 
New  England  poet  addressed  to  him  a  congratu- 
latory epistle  on  his  Windsor  Forest,  when  it  first 
appeared. 


141 


''  Hail,  aacred  bard !  a  muse  unknown  befoi'e 
Salutes  thee  from  the  bleak  Atlantic  shore. 
To  our  dark  world  thy  shining  page  is  shown, 
And  Windsor's  gay  retreat  becomes  our  own. 
The  Eastern  pomp  had  just  bespoke  our  care, 
And  India  pour'd  her  gaudy  treasures  here  •• 
A  various  spoil  adorn'd  our  naked  land, 
The  pride  of  Persia  glitter'd  on  our  strand. 
And  China's  earth  was  cast  on  common  sand : 
Toss'd  up  and  down  the  glossy  fragments  lay, 
And  dress'd  the  rocky  shelves,  and  pav'd  the  paintftd  bay, 
Thy  treasures  next  arriv'd ;  and  now  we  boast 
A  nobler  cargo  on  our  barren  coast ; 
From  thy  luxuriant  Forest  we  receive 
More  lasting  glories  than  the  east  can  give. 
Where'er  we  dip  in  thy  delightful  page, 
What  pompous  scenes  our  busy  thoughts  engage  ! 
The  pompous  scenes  in  all  their  pride  appear, 
Fresh  in  the  page,  as  in  the  grove  they  were. 
Nor  half  so  true  the  fair  Lodona  shows 
The  sylvan  state  that  on  her  border  grows, 
While  she  the  wond'ring  shepherd  entertains 
With  a  new  Windsor  in  her  wat'ry  plains  ; 

/   Thy  juster  lays  the  lucid  wave  surpass, 

■V  The  living  scene  is  in  the  muse's  glass. 

Nor  sweeter  notes  the  echoing  forests  cheer, 
When  Philomela  sits  and  warbles  there, 
Than  when  you  sing  the  greens  and  op'ning  glades, 
And  give  us  harmony  as  well  as  shades  : 

^  A  Titian's  hand  might  draw  the  grove,  but  you 
■   Can  paint  the  grove,  and  add  the  music  too. 
With  vast  variety  thy  pages  shine  ; 
A  new  creation  starts  in  every  Une. 
How  sudden  trees  rise  to  the  reader's  sight. 
And  make  a  doubtful  scene  of  shade  and  light, 
And  give  at  once  the  day,  at  once  the  night ! 


142 


And  here  again  what  sweet  confusion  reigns, 
In  dreary  deserts  mix'd  with  painted  plains  ! 
And  see  !  the  deserts  cast  a  pleasing  gloom, 
And  shrubby  heaths  rejoice  in  purple  bloom  : 
Whilst  fruitful  crops  rise  by  their  barren  side, 
And  bearded  groves  display  their  annual  pride. 
Happy  the  man  who  strings  his  tuneful  lyre, 
Where  woods,  and  brooks,  and  breathing  fields  inspire  ! 
Thrice  happy  you  !  and  worthy  best  to  dwell 
Amidst  the  rureJ  joys  you  sing  so  well, 
I  in  a  cold,  and  in  a  barren  clime, 
Cold  as  my  thought,  and  barren  as  my  rhyme, 
Here  on  the  western  beach  attempt  to  chime. 

0  joyless  flood  !  O  rough  tempestuous  main  ; 
Border'd  with  weeds,  and  solitudes  obscene  ! 

Snatch  me,  ye  gods  !    from  these  Atlantic  shores. 
And  shelter  me  in  Windsor's  fragrant  bow'rs  ; 
Or  to  my  much-lov'd  Isis'  walk  convey, 
And  on  her  flow'ry  banks  forever  lay. 
Thence  let  me  view  the  venerable  scene. 
The  awful  dome,  the  groves  eternal  green  : 
Where  sacred  Hough  long  found  his  fam'd  retreat, 
And  brought  the  muses  to  the  sylvan  seat, 
Reform'd  the  wits,  unlock'd  the  classic  store. 
And  made  that  music  which  was  noise  before. 
There  with  illustrious  bards  I  spent  my  days, 
Nor  free  from  censure,  nor  unknown  to  praise  ; 
Enjoy'd  the  blessings  that  his  reign  bestow'd. 
Nor  envy'd  Windsor  in  the  soft  abode. 
The  golden  minutes  smoothly  danc'd  away. 
And  tuneful  bards  beguil'd  the  tedious  day  ; 
They  sung,  nor  sung  in  vain,  with  numbers  fir'd 
That  Maro  taught,  or  Addison  inspir'd. 
Ev'n  I  essay'd  to  touch  the  trembling  string ; 
Who  could  hear  them,  and  not  attempt  to  sing? 

Rous'd  from  these  dreams  by  thy  commanding  strain, 

1  rise,  and  wander  through  the  field  or  plain  ; 


143 

Led  by  thy  muse,  from  sport  to  sport  I  run, 

Mark  the  stretch'd  line,  or  hear  the  thund'ring  gun. 

Ah  !   how  I  melt  with  pity,  when  I  spy, 
On  the  cold  earth,  the  flutt'ring  pheasant  lie  ; 
His  gaudy  robes  in  dazzling  lines  appear, 
And  ev'ry  feather  shines  and  varies  there. 

Nor  can  I  pass  the  gen'rous  courser  by  ; 
But  while  the  prancing  steed  allures  my  eye, 
He  starts,  he's  gone  !  and  now  I  see  him  fly 
O'er  hills  and  dales,  and  now  I  lose  the  course, 
Nor  can  the  rapid  sight  pursue  the  flying  horse. 
Oh  could  thy  Virgil  from  his  orb  look  down. 
He'd  view  a  courser  that  might  match  his  own ! 
Fir'd  with  the  sport,  and  eager  for  the  chace, 
Lodona's  murmurs  stop  me  in  the  race. 
Who  can  refuse  Lodona's  melting  tale  ? 
The  soft  complaint  shall  over  time  prevail; 
The  tale  be  told,  when  shades  forsake  her  shore. 
The  nymph  be  sung,  when  she  can  flow  no  more. 

Nor  shall  thy  song,  old  Thames  !  forbear  to  shine. 
At  once  the  subject  and  the  song  divine. 
Peace,  sung  by  thee,  shall  please  ev'n  Britons  more 
Than  all  their  shouts  for  victory  before. 
Oh  !    could  Britannia  imitate  thy  stream. 
The  world  should  tremble  at  her  awful  name  : 
From  various  springs  divided  waters  glide, 
In  difi^'rent  colours  roll  a  diff'rent  tide. 
Murmur  along  their  crooked  banks  a  while. 
At  once  they  murmur,  and  enrich  the  isle  ; 
A  while  distinct  through  many  channels  run. 
But  meet  at  last,  and  sweetly  flow  in  one  ; 
There  joy  to  lose  their  long-distinguish'd  names, 
And  make  one  glorious,  and  immortal  Thames. 

MATHER  BYLES,  a  clergyman  of  Boston, 
was  of  the  same  a§e  of  Green,  and  was  distin- 


£44 

guished  as  a  poet  and  a  wit.  His  love  of  a  pun 
was  uncontrolable ;  even  the  staidness  and  for- 
mality which  at  that  day  it  was  necessary  for  a 
preacher  constantly  to  wear,  could  not  restrain  this 
propensity  of  punning  in  Byles,  and  so  inveterate 
was  the  habit  with  him  that  a  witticism  would 
often  escape  him  when  he  did  not  intend  it,  and 
like  the  tutor  of  Martinus  Scriblerus  he  frequently 
made  a  string  of  puns  while  he  was  deprecating 
the  evils  which  followed  the  amusement.  Byles 
was  a  scholar,  eloquent  and  accomplished,  but  he 
was  vain  and  sensitive,  and  of  course  easily  an- 
noyed by  such  a  satirist  as  Green,  who  knowing 
his  weak  side  delighted  in  fretting  him.  Byles 
wrote,  when  on  a  voyage  to  Penobscot,  in  the  year 
1732,  a  psalm,  which  he  called  "  A  Psalm  to  sing 
at  sea,''  which  is  certainly  an  elegant  composition, 
but  Green  seized  the  opportunity  to  write  a  bur- 
lesque on  it,  which  was  executed  with  his  usual 
felicity.  The  best  works  are  the  easiest  to  tra- 
vestie.  Byles  was  so  much  irritated  that  he  wrote 
a  parody  upon  Green's  production,  but  forgot  his 
dignity  in  his  wounded  pride,  and  seemed  to  draw 
but  little  inspiration  from  his  rage.  Green  laugh- 
ed— it  was  his  "  vocation" — and  Byles  fumed, 
and  the  town  was  amused.  It  would  be  unfair  to 
mention  Byles  as  a  poet  only:*  for  he  was  pre- 


145 


eminent  among  the  preachers  of  that  day,  and  is 
now  remembered  by  many  as  the  first  orator  in 
the  pulpit  among  many  eloquent  clergymen,  who 
were  his  contemporaries. 

THE  Rev.  JOHN  ADAMS  who  died  at  Cam- 
bridge, 1740,  in  the  36th  year  of  his  age,  was  not 
only  a  distinguished  scholar  and  divine,  but  con- 
sidered a  great  poet.     A  volume  of  his  pieces  on 
occasional    and   general  subjects,    was   for  many 
years  held  in  high  estimation  by  the  learned  and 
pious.     They    are    certainly    above    mediocrity. 
Many  of  them,  though  not  in  a  very  good  taste, 
bear  traces  of  no  common  powers  of  fancy  and 
thought ;  the  invocations  to  the  Deity  to  guide  his 
muse,   and  direct   his  poetical  effusions,  that  he 
might  not  sink  the  priest  in  the  poet,  is  well  con- 
ceived.    His   elegy   on   the  death  of  Doctor  C. 
Mather,  is  a  rhapsody  equal  to  any  of  that  age. 
It  abounds  in  bold  and  beautiful  imagery,  and  is 
alone  sufficient  to  give  him  a  high  rank  among  our 
early  poets.    His  translations  of  Horace,  and  other 
pieces  of  that  sort,  show  a  considerable  acquaint- 
ance with  Latin  poetry.     He  attempted  a  version 
of  the  Revelations,  but  in  this  he  failed ;  rhyme  is 
not  a  proper  vehicle  for  the  abrupt,  obscure,  and  un* 
fathomable  out-pourings  of  prophecy.     His  poem 

19 


146 

on  Society  is  considered  by  many  as  his  best  pro- 
duction, and  as  exhibited  in  this  work,  his  phi- 
losophy was  sound,  and  his  affections  elevated 
and  pure. 

"  The  parent,  warm  with  nature's  tender  fire, 

Does  in  the  child  his  second  self  admire ; 

The  fondling  mother  views  the  springing  charms 

Of  the  young  infant  smiling  in  her  arms  ; 

And  when  imperfect  accents  show  the  dawn 

Of  rising  reason,  on  the  future  man, 

SAveetly  she  hears  what  fondly  she  returns, 

And  by  this  fuel  her  affection  burns. 

But  when  succeeding  years  have  fix'd  his  growth. 

And  sense  and  judgment  crown  his  ripen'd  youth, 

A  social  joy  thence  takes  its  happy  rise, 

And  friendship  adds  its  force  to  nature's  ties." 

THOMAS  KILBY  wrote  a  poem  of  a  satirical 
character  against  the  famous  financial  arrange- 
ment called  the  Land  Bank.  The  names  he 
mentions  are  now  mostly  forgotten  ;  but  notwith- 
standing much  of  its  point  is  lost  by  this  circum- 
stance, yet  the  production  is  read  with  pleasure  at 
the  present  day.  Kilby  was  a  man  of  distinction 
— an  agent  for  the  Province  in  England — Grand 
Master  of  Masons — a  scholar  and  a  wit.  He 
died  1746. 

JOHN  OSBORN,  a  native  of  Sandwich,  was  a 
physician   in   Connecticut,   and   who  died   1753, 


147  \ 

I 

V 

about  forty  years  of  age,  has  left  some  poetry, 
which  bears  unquestionable  evidence  of  talents. 
An  elegant  epistle  written  by  him  at  college,  1735, 
and  addressed  to  one  sister  on  the  death  of  an- 
other, is  easy  and  plaintive.  The  concluding  part 
of  which  I  shall  insert,  is  philosophical  and  im- 
pressive. 

"  But  why  should  you  and  I  forever  mourn 

Our  dear  relation's  death  ?     She's  gone — 

We've  wept  enough  to  prove 

Our  grief,  and  tender  love  ; 

Let  joy  succeed  and  smiles  appear, 

And  let  us  wipe  off  every  tear ; 

Not  always  the  cold  winter  lasts. 

With  snows  and  storms  and  northern  blasts  : 

The  raging  seas  with  fury  tost, 

Not  always  break  and  roar,  'J- 

Sometimes  their  native  anger's  lost,  « 

And  smooth  hush'd  waves  glide  softly  to  the  shore." 

The  whaling  song  written  by  Osborn  soon  after 
he  left  college,  is  now  frequently  heard  on  the 
Pacific  Ocean  among  our  hardy  and  adventurous 
countrymen,  as  they  chase  with  '^'  poised  harpoon" 
the  monarch  of  the  deep.  The  whole  pursuit, 
attack  and  death  of  the  whale  is  given  in  the  song, 
the  death  only  is  here  selected. 

"A  mighty  whale  we  rush  upon, 

And  in  our  irons  throw  ; 
She  sinks  her  monstrous  body  down, 

Among  the  waves  lielow. 


148 

And  when  she  rises  out  again, 

We  soon  renew  the  fight, 
Thrust  our  sharp  lancets  in  amain, 

And  all  her  rage  excite. 

Enrag'd  she  makes  a  mighty  bound. 

Thick  foams  the  whiten'd  sea  ; 
The  waves  in  circles  rise  around, 

And  widening  roll  away. 

She  thrashes  with  her  tail  around, 

And  blows  her  redd'ning  breath  ; 
She  thunders  out  a  deaf'ning  sound, 

While  ocean  groans  beneath. 

From  num'rous  wounds,  with  crimson  flood 

She  stains  the  frothy  seas, 
And  gasps  and  blows  her  latest  blood, 

While  quiv'ring  life  decays/' 

DOCTOR  BENJAMIN  CHURCH,  a  cod- 
spicuous  character  previous  to  the  revolution, 
wrote  several  songs  and  other  pieces  of  poetry, 
that  deserve  the  first  rank  in  the  productions  of 
that  patriotic  period.  His  verses  on  tlie  massacre, 
if  not  so  splendid  as  some  others  written  on  that 
occasion,  are  better  poetry  than  most  of  them  upon 
that  subject,  and  certainly  flow  with  majesty  and 
ease.  His  fame  would  have  been  brighter,  and 
more  lasting  as  a  poet,  if  his  patriotism  had  never 
been  doubted.  Incidental  circumstances  often 
tarnish  a  reputation  for  talents.     The  succeeding 


149 

age  seldom  takes  the  trouble  to  correct  the  errors 
of  the  preceding,  in  respect  to  the  learning  or 
talents  of  a  man,  if  his  reputation  for  patriotism 
is  blasted.  Authors  are  sometimes  tolerated  when 
their  vices  are  not  concealed,  but  the  discovery  of 
political  hypocrisy  is  fatal  to  literary  distinction. 
Nor  is  it  confined  to  letters  alone  ;  the  valour  of 
Arnold,  and  the  learning  of  Church,  have  lost 
their  meed  of  praise.  If  the  writer  should  attempt 
to  exhibit  the  fair  side  of  them  only,  memory  in 
return  would  be  busy  in  furnishing  the  contrast. 

DOCTOR  JOSEPH  ORNE,  a  native  of  Sa 
lem,  who  graduated  1765,  at  Harvard  University, 
was  a  gentlemen  of  great  literary  eminence.  He 
is  represented,  by  those  who  knew  him  well,  to 
have  been  a  prodigy  of  learning  and  acuteness. 
He  went  to  Cambridge  a  mere  child,  yet  held  the 
first  rank  in  his  class  in  every  branch  of  knowl- 
edge. He  turned  from  the  classics  and  poetry,  to 
mathematics,  logic,  and  the  severer  studies,  with 
the  readiness  of  unquestionable  talent.  He  died 
young,  to  the  great  regret  of  his  friends,  and  the 
lovers  of  learning.  For  several  years  previous  to 
his  dissolution  his  health  was  feeble,  yet  his  mind 
never  lost  any  of  its  elasticity ;  but  in  the  midst  of 
disease  and  languor  he  amused  himself  by  indulg- 


150 

ing  bis  talent  for  Hudibrastic  poetry.  Political 
and  transient  occurrences  furnished  sufficient  topics 
for  one  who  had  no  ambition  to  be  handed  down 
to  posterity  as  a  poet,  and  no  object  in  writing 
but  what  arose  from  the  pleasure  of  the  moment. 
Laughing  at  folly  frequently  beguiled  him  of  his 
pains  ;  but  when  he  chose  to  be  solemn,  and  to 
touch  upon  the  calamities  of  life,  and  the  hopes  of 
futurity,  his  poetry  was  deep,  solemn  and  pathetic, 
and  reached  the  heart  with  the  truth  of  nature,  and 
the  spell  of  genius. 

Among  our  poets  whom  the  muses  were  more 
fond  to  inspire  than  proud  to  avow,  was  JAMES 
ALLEN,  who  died  but  a  few  years  since,  in  a 
good  old  age.  He  mingled  in  society  for  many 
years  "  the  soul  of  frolic  and  fun.''  Wherever  he 
went  gravity  was  forced  to  relax  to  a  smile,  and 
melancholy  was  exorcised  from  the  circle.  He 
lived  the  undisturbed  life  of  a  bachelor,  and  never 
seemed  anxious  for  any  thing,  but  to  secure  his 
fame  as  a  poet,  and  he  would  hardly  copy  a  page 
for  this.  Humour  in  the  private  circle  often  de- 
scends to  farce,  and  that  degenerates  to  ribaldry. 
The  courtesies  of  society  are  liberal  to  him  '"^whose 
gibes  and  whose  merriment  keep  the  table  in  a 
roar."     In  the  company  of  such  a  man  the  guests 


151 

expect  to  be  amusedj  and  they  bring  a  good  stock 
of  indulgence,  as  well  as  a  good  appetite  for  enjoy- 
ment. With  such  a  man  at  the  social  board  dis- 
cretion is  thrown  to  the  winds,  and  he  who  does 
not  laugh  must  be  mad.  When  Momus  came 
among  the  gods,  whether  they  were  in  council  or 
at  the  banquet,  the  celestial  laugh  went  round,  and 
was  enjoyed  even  by  "  Dian's  self." 

Allen  was  a  patriot,  and  justly  regarded  public 
sentiment.  Whatever  he  published  is  chaste  and 
dignified.  His  poem  on  the  massacre  was  highly 
esteemed  at  that  time,  and  is  now  often  quoted  as 
excellent.  I  have  room  only  for  a  few  lines  of  it. 
Alluding  to  the  spirit  of  the  people  which  in  a 
burst  of  indignation  spoke  terror  to  their  invaders, 
he  breathes  this  fine  strain  : 

"  No  parle,  avaunt,  or  by  our  fathex's'  shades 
Your  reeking-  lives  shall  glut  our  vengeful  blades, 
Ere  morning's  light  be  gone — or  else  we  swear, 
Each  slaughter'd  corse  shall  feed  the  birds  of  air  ! 
Ere  morning's  light  had  streak'd  the  skies  with  red, 
The  chieftain  yielded,  and  the  soldier  fled  ; 
'Tis  thus  experience  speaks — the  test  forbear, 
Nor  show  these  States  your  feeble  front  of  war  ; 
But  still  your  navies  lord  it  on  the  main. 
Their  keels  are  natives  of  our  oaken  plain. 
E'en  the  proud  mast  that  bears  your  flag  on  high, 
Grew  on  our  soil,  and  ripen'd  in  our  sky." 


READ. 


JOHN  READ  was  a  man  distinguished  for 
genius,  beloved  by  tiie  votaries  of  literature,  rev- 
erenced by  the  contemporary  patriots  of  his  country, 
the  pride  of  the  bar,  the  light  of  the  law,  and  chief 
among  the  wise,  the  witty  and  the  eloquent — One 
who  lived  long  and  did  much,  but  yet  of  whom  so 
little  is  matter  of  historical  record,  that  a  single 
page  would  contain  all  that  is  written  of  him.  It 
is  painful  to  think  that  a  man  so  proudly  pre-emi- 
nent among  his  peers,  should  now  be  so  buried  in. 
obscurity.  Tradition,  it  is  true,  is  stored  with 
anecdotes  of  him,  but  we  look  in  vain  for  written 
memorials. 

Read  graduated  at  Harvard  University  in  the 
year  1697,  and  was  then  among  the  first  scholars 
of  his  day.  He  studied  divinity,  and  was  for 
some  time  a  popular  preacher,  but  not  liking  the 
religious  dogmas  of  that  day,  or  fearing  that  he 
should  not  be  able  to  restrain  his  wit,  or  keep  hit 
gravity  at  some  instance  of  solemn  foolery,  or 
perhaps  feeling  that  he  was  destined  for  a  more 
20 


154 

extended  sphere  of  action,  he  left  that  profession 
for  the  law.  The  last  of  liis  years  are  distinctly 
remembered  by  two  veterans  of  the  bar  who  are 
now  living,  for  he  did  not  die  until  February  7, 
1749,  and  these  living  chronicles  confirm  the  state- 
ment, that  the  numerous  anecdotes  of  him  which 
have  come  down  to  us,  were  current  soon  after  his 
decease. 

To  prove  that  he  was  a  profound  lawyer,  not 
trammelled  by  the  mere  letter  of  the  law,  nor  con- 
fused by  its  prolixity,  it  is  only  necessary  to  look 
at  his  legal  labours  which  are  now  extant.     One 
act  alone  should  give  him  immortality.     He  from 
bis  own  high  responsibility  reduced  the  quaint, 
redundant  and  obscure  phraseology  of  the  English 
deeds  of  conveyance  to  their  present  short,  clear, 
and  simple  forms,  now  in  common  use  among  us. 
Forms,  seemingly  prolix,  have  generally  their  use 
and  most  lawyers  are  attached  to  them  from  habit, 
and  from  a  belief  that  it  is  better  to  be  tautological, 
than  obscure  from  too  much  brevity.     His  influ- 
ence   and    authority    must  have   been   great  as  a 
lawyer,  to  have  brought   these   retrenched  forms 
into  general  use.     The  declarations  which  he  made 
and  used  in  civil  actions,  have  many  of  them  come 
down   to   us   as   precedents,   and  are  among  the 
finest  specimens   of  special  pleading   which   can 


■> 


155 

be  found.  Story  has  preserved  some  of  his 
forms,  and  Parsons  used  to  say  that  many  other 
lawyers  had  assumed  his  works  as  a  special 
pleader  as  their  own,  and  that  the  honours  due 
him,  had  by  carelessness  or  accident  been  given 
to  others,  who  had  only  copied  his  forms.  In 
speaking  of  Read's  knowledge  of  the  science  of 
special  pleading,  Judge  Trowbridge  related  an 
anecdote  to  a  gentleman  of  the  bar  now  living. 
The  facts  show  sagacity  and  cunning,  then  the 
great  requisites  for  distinction,  and  which  at  all 
times  have  their  weight  in  making  up  a  lawyer's 
character. 

"A  merchant  of  8alem  or  Boston,  who  iiad  a 
ship  and  cargo  seized  by  the  king's  custom-house 
officer  for  a  breach  of  the  acts  of  trade,  applied  to 
Read  for  advice  ;  Read  told  him  to  replevy  the 
ship  and  cargo,  and  a  writ  of  replevin  was  made 
out  in  the  form  prescribed  by  the  old  Province 
law,  commanding  the  sheriff  to  replevy  the  same 
and  deliver  them  to  the  plaintiff  upon  his  giving 
bond  to  answer  the  cost  and  damages  at  the  next 
Court  of  Common  Pleas,  and  respond  the  judg- 
ment finally  given  thereon,  and  siiiumou  the  seiz- 
ing officer  to  appear  and  shew  cause  why  he  liad 
driven  away  and  impounded  the  s!iip  and  cargo. 
And  as  the  abating  of  writs  seemed  at  that  time  to 


156 

be  a  great  part  of  the  practice,  Read  intentionally 
had  given  the  defendant  in  replevin  no  addition 
or  else  a  wrong  one.  On  the  day  of  the  setting  of 
the  Court,  the  plaintiflp  in  replevin  came  to  him  in 
great  agitation  and  told  him  the  counsel  for  the 
defendant  had  found  a  flaw  in  the  writ  and  intend- 
ed to  have  it  abated ;  Read  endeavoured  to  calm 
his  client's  apprehensions  without  letting  him  into 
the  secret  of  his  intentions,  told  him  to  enter  the 
action.  Upon  the  sitting  of  the  Court  the  counsel 
for  the  defendant  whispered  to  Read  across  the 
table,  informing  him  of  the  mistake  made  in  the 
writ,  and  that  he  intended  to  have  it  abated. 
Read  having  examined  the  writ,  and  finding  it 
erroneous,  desired  the  defendant's  counsel  to  let 
him  mend  it,  but  he  refused.  Then  Read  told 
him  if  he  would  take  advantage  of  his  mistake  he 
could  not  help  it ;  but  he  must  plead  it,  and  there- 
upon a  plea  of  abatement  was  made  in  writing — 
for  some  time  such  pleas  were  made  ore  tonus — 
that  the  writ  might  abate,  and  for  costs — witliout 
requesting  a  return  of  the  ship  and  cargo,  and 
judgment  was  made  up  accordingly.  Then  Read 
told  his  client  to  let  execution  be  taken  out  against 
him,  and  when  the  officer  came  to  serve  it  to  pay 
the  sum  and  not  before.  At  the  next  term  suit 
was  brought  on  the  bond,  and  Read  prayed  oyer 


157 

of  the  bond  and  condition^  and  pleaded  in  bar  that 
he  had  fully  complied  and  performed  its  condi- 
tions, by  entering  and  prosecuting  the  suit  to  final 
judgment,  and  by  paying  the  execution,  in  proof 
of  which  he  produced  the  sheriff's  return  on 
the  same.  The  merchant  having  sent  his  ship 
to  sea  upon  her  restoration  thereof  to  him  by 
the  writ  of  replevin,  there  was  an  end  to  the 
cause.'' 

As  a  legislator  he  was  conspicuous  for  several 
years,  but  so  unambitious  a  man  could  not  have 
been  a  regular  leader,  he  was  too  independent  and 
enlightened  for  a  lover  of  prerogative,  and  too 
honest  for  a  leader  of  faction.  He  spoke  with 
frankness,  I'egardless  of  political  consequences.  A 
great  man  who  condescends  to  enter  into  the  poli- 
tics of  the  day  and  bear  the  heat  and  burthen  of  it, 
owes  nothing  to  the  public  for  his  honours,  but  the 
public  are  much  indebted  to  him  for  his  exertions. 
After  having  been  for  some  time  in  the  House  of 
Representatives  he  was  elected  to  the  Council 
when  Shirley  was  in  the  chair,  and  there  pursued 
the  same  upright  course.  Belcher,  the  prede- 
cessor of  Shirley,  had  pursuaded  his  council  that 
upon  the  appointment  of  a  new  Governor  it  was 
necessary  to  renew  all  civil  commissions  ;  this 
same  thing  was  proposed  in  council  by   Shirley 


158 

and  the  precedent  brought  up^  "  but  Mr.  Read,  a 
very  eminent  lawyer,  and,  which  is  more,  a  per- 
son of  great  integrity  and  firmness  of  mind,  being 
then  a  member  of  the  council,  brought  such  argu- 
ments against  the  practice  that  a  majority  of  the 
board  refused  to  consent  to  it." — Hutcliinsony 
Vol.  2. 

His  method  of  managing  causes,  his  terse  argu- 
ments, his  cutting  irony,  his  witticisms,  and  his 
good  nature  too,  were  well  known  to  that  genera- 
tion of  lawyers  to  which  Gtridley,  Trowbridge, 
and  Pynchon  belonged ;  and  facts  illustrating  his 
powers  and  disposition  were  familiar  to  the  next — 
to  Lowell,  Parsons,  and  those  just  gone.  Every 
thing  said  of  him  went  to  shew  his  genius,  his 
learning,  sagacity,  eccentricity,  integrity  and  be- 
nevolence. 

There  is  one  well  authenticated  story  of  his 
eccentricity  of  character  which  I  will  venture 
to  mention,  as  it  is  in  consonance  with  the  whole 
tenor  of  his  life.  The  intercourse  between  the 
South  and  the  North  was  nothing  in  a  com- 
mercial or  social  point  of  view  to  what  it  now  is. 
Read,  one  autumn,  made  up  his  mind  to  spend 
the  winter  at  the  South,  and  planned  the  journey 
after  his  own  manner.  Dressing  himself  in  the 
plainest  garb  which  could  be  considered  decent. 


159 

he  cut  his  staff,  slung  his  pack  and  commenced 
his  peregrinations.  No  knight-errant  ever  met 
with  more  adventures,  for  he  sought  them,  and 
made  them  as  he  journeyed.  The  whole  tour 
was  full  of  whim,  frolic  and  fun,  and  for  many 
years  the  whole  story  was  repeated  at  every  Court 
in  Massachusetts, — but  of  lawyers,  after  the 
drudgery  of  the  day  in  Court,  it  can  seldom  be 
said  as  of  the  sage  in  the  oriental  eclogue — that, 
he  often  displayed  his  affluence  of  intellectual 
wealth,  and  at  every  exhibition  his  imagination 
grew  warmer  and  purer,  and  some  new  gem  was 
found  sparkling  among  his  treasures.  These  an- 
ecdotes had  a  different  fate ;  they  lost  something 
by  every  repetition  ;  some  fact  was  forgotten,  some 
incident  left  out,  or  the  ornaments  neglected.  But 
meagre  as  the  story  has  come  to  us  it  is  not  des- 
titute of  interest.  As  he  went  on  his  journey 
he  excited  astonishment  wherever  he  came,  and 
among  all  classes  he  met.  With  the  breeder  of 
horsds  he  was  a  vaterinary  surgeon — with  farmers 
an  experienced  agriculturist — with  mechanics  a 
master  of  all  trades  ;  every  one  with  whom  he  con- 
versed thought  he  belonged  to  his  own  art,  trade 
or  calling. 

In  some  part  of  his  journey  he  entered   a  vil- 
lage in  which  a  Court  was  sitting,  and   a  cause 


160 

was  soon  to  come  on  which  made  a  great  ex- 
citement amoug  the  populace.  The  plaintiff  was 
poor,  his  title,  though  just,  iuvolved  in  much 
intricacy — the  defendant  was  rich,  with  powerful 
friends  and  numerous  and  able  counsel.  Read 
collected  the  facts  and  having  full  confidence  in 
the  cause,  offered  his  services  to  the  plaintiff  as 
counsel,  and  notwithstanding  his  appearance  scan- 
dalized the  profession,  yet  the  plaintiff  had  saga- 
city to  discover  his  merit  from  a  short  conversa- 
tion with  him.  On  the  day  of  the  trial  the  counsel 
and  client  entered  the  Court — his  vulgar  garb  was 
soon  forgotten  in  his  first  address  to  the  Court, 
stating  what  induced  him  to  engage  in  the  cause 
before  them — a  love  of  justice,  and  to  show  that 
honesty  should  be  fearless.  In  a  few  minutes  he 
both  astonished  and  captivated  them.  The  cause 
went  on,  and  he  displayed  such  learning  and 
ability,  such  knowledge  even  of  the  statute  law  of 
the  State  in  which  he  then  was,  that  every  one  on 
tlie  bench  and  at  the  bar,  spectators  and  all,  were 
filled  with  admiration  and  respect  for  the  man. 
The  cause  was  won,  and  he  instantly  left  the 
place  for  new  adventures. 

Like  Galileo  and  Bacon,  Read  was  too  far  in 
advance  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived  to  have  been 
sufficiently  honoured  in  his  generation,  and  it  is 


16.1 

to  be  deplored  that  he  had  no  honest  chronicler 
to  have  traced  him  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave, 
however  homely  the  record  might  at  this  time 
appear.  "They  had  no  poet  and  they  died," 
might  justly  be  the  lamentation  over  many  names 
who  deserved  a  monument,  an  epitaph,  and  a  page 
in  history. 


21 


PRATT. 


BENJAMIN  PRATT  graduated  ia  1737,  at 
Harvard  Uuiversity.  He  entered,  it  is  said,  ia 
the  junior  class,  and  was  distinguished  for  the  ex- 
tent of  his  acquirements,  and  the  maturity  of  his 
judgment.  He  read  law  either  with  Auchmuty 
or  Gridley,  or  both,  and  commenced  business  in 
Boston.  He  was  soon  conspicuous  among  the  law- 
yers of  the  day  in  learning  and  eloquence.  From 
eminence  at  the  bar,  the  course  to  political  distinc- 
tion was  easy  and  certain.  For  several  years  he 
was  one  of  the  representatives  of  Boston  in  the 
legislature,  and  was  a  constant,  fearless,  and  inde- 
pendent lover  of  freedom,  and  never  hesitated  to 
support  what  he  thought  to  be  just,  wise  and  expe- 
dient, without  crouching  to  prerogative,  or  bending 
to  the  people.  This  course  in  times  of  commotion 
is  difficult  to  pursue.  Power  of  every  kind  is  jeal- 
ous, and  while  it  affects  to  admire,  always  bates  an 
independent  spirit. 

Pratt  was  highly  esteemed  by  governor  Pow- 
XAL  from  the  part  he  took  in  the  legislature,  as 


164 

well  as  for  his  general  character  ;  but  in  attempt- 
ing to  make  suitable  arrangements  for  the  gover- 
nor's departure  from  the  Province  he  gave  oflfence 
to  the  people,  and  the  next  year  they  left  him  out 
of  the  list  of  representatives.  The  oflBce-seeker 
and  the  demagogue  may  think  this  fact  against  him 
—far  from  it.  The  affections  of  the  people  arc 
transient  and  vacillating,  and  easily  offended — or 
at  least  they  were  so  in  his  time,  for  it  was  just  as 
the  political  ferment  began.  Armed  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  his  own  integrity,  this  neglect  did 
not  disturb  him.  He  sincerely  loved  New  Eng- 
land, but  it  was  not  his  destiny  to  reach  his  high- 
est  honours  here,  or  die  in  the  land  of  his  nativity, 
for  when  Pownal  returned  home  he  remembered 
Pratt,  and  he  was  by  his  recommendation  ap- 
pointed  Chief  Justice  of  the  State  of  New  York. 
The  Suffolk  bar  with  whom  he  had  long  associat- 
ed, and  by  whom  he  was  highly  respected,  sent  him 
a  valedictory  address,  which  affectionately  spoke 
of  his  worth,  and  regretted  his  departure.  His 
answer  was  a  classical  composition,  full  of  feeling 
and  dignity. 

Many  of  the  people  of  Boston  thought  him  mo- 
rose, distant  and  haughty  ;  but  they  did  not  fully 
understand  him.  To  the  few  for  whom  he  felt  a 
high  respect  for  their  worth   and   intelligence,  he 


165 

was  communicative  and  courteous.  His  talents 
were  never  questioned  by  any.  It  is  not  impro- 
bable that  his  early  misfortune,  the  loss  of  a  limb, 
gave  a  sober  cast  to  his  character.  In  every  man 
there  is  more  or  less  of  personal  vanity,  which 
occupies  a  portion  of  our  youthful  days  ;  but  "  he 
who  is  curtailed  of  his  fair  proportions,"  and  has 
no  opportunity  of  exhibiting  his  beauty,  grace, 
strength,  and  personal  accomplishments  by  the 
military  plume,  the  sprightly  dance,  or  by  fencing, 
riding,  or  such  feats,  becomes  early  concentrated, 
thoughtful  and  solemn,  and  grows  mature,  while 
others  are  in  the  green  leaf  of  pleasure  or  dissipa- 
tion. If  such  misfortunes  befal  a  feeble-minded 
youth,  his  disposition  generally  turns  peevish  or 
morose,  and  he  quarrels  with  all  around  him  ;  but 
one  made  on  a  higher  scale,  cut  off  from  the  com- 
mon amusements  of  life,  by  some  painful  accident, 
becomes  strong  in  the  inner  man.  He  learns  to 
lean  upon  himself — passes  from  the  visible  to  the 
invisible  world — from  creation  to  providence — 
from  the  gay  and  light  things  of  the  present  mo- 
ment to  the  weighty  ones  of  eternity.  If  his  mind 
should  not  receive  this  religious  impression  at  first, 
it  often  pursues  a  course  nearly  allied  to  it — a 
course  literary  and  philosophical.  The  character 
of  Pratt's  eloquence  and  of  his  poetry,  prove  that 


166 

he  had  reasoned  much  upon  the  nature  and  fate  of 
man,  and  upon  the  wisdom  and  design  of  God  in 
making  him  what  he  is.  The  people  finding  a  man 
in  husiness  hours  like  other  men,  can  see  no  dif- 
ference between  him  and  others  in  any  respect ;  it 
does  not  come  within  their  ken.  The  good  people 
expected  of  him  the  low  bow — the  honied  accents 
of  "  sweet  friends,"  but  he  did  not  turn  to  bow  nor 
flatter,  and  they  thought  him  crusty  and  proud. 

Pratt  must  have  been  a  man  of  great  research 
and  learning,  for  he  had  made  such  an  extensive 
collection  of  rare  documents,  relating  to  the  events 
of  this  country,  that  he  contemplated  writing  a 
history  of  New  England  ;  but  he  died  too  soon  to 
accomplish  it.  This  was  deeply  regretted  by  all 
who  knew  how  well  qualified  he  was  for  such  a 
task.  The  fact  is  mentioned  by  Hutchinson  in 
his  preface  to  his  History  of  Massachusetts  Bay. 
The  public  on  this  account  alone  lost  much  by  his 
death,  for  his  style  was  far  superior  to  that  of  any 
man  of  his  time,  and  his  habit  of  thinking,  analyz- 
ing, and  arranging  his  subjects,  would  have  been 
of  admirable  use  in  such  a  work.  His  models 
were  classical,  and  his  manner  free  from  the  staid- 
ness  then  prevalent  among  American  historians. 

I  shall  here  insert  the  only  poetical  composition 
which  is  traced  to  him,  although  it  was  generally 


167 

understood,  that  when  be  was  young,  he  published 
no  small  number  of  occasional  pieces  in  the  news- 
papers and  magazines  ;  but  these  must  have  all 
been  anonymous.  This  short  Canto  on  Death  is 
not  deficient  in  poetry — it  has  some  obscurities, 
and  some  harsh  lines,  but  it  abounds  in  deep 
thought,  and  proves  that  he  had  taste  and  fancy — 
many  of  the  figures  are  beautiful,  and  every  part 
of  it  is  strongly  marked  with  a  deep  and  sentimen- 
tal philosophy,  which  passes  from  things  seen  to 
things  unseen  and  eternal — from  earth  to  heaven — 
from  man  to  God. 

FROM   A    MANUSCRIPT   OF   THE   LATE   HONOURABLE 

BENJAMIN  PRATT,  Esq. 

CHIEF   JUSTICE   OF   THE   PROVINCE   OF   NEW   YORE. 

THOUGH  guilt  and  folly  tremble  o'er  the  grave. 
No  life  can  charm,  no  death  affright  the  brave. 
The  wise  at  nature's  laws  will  ne'er  repine, 
Nor  think  to  scan,  or  mend  the  grand  design, 
That  takes  unbounded  nature  for  its  care, 
Bids  all  her  millions  claim  an  equal  share. 
Late  in  a  microscopic  worm  confined  ; 
Then  in  a  prisoned  foetus,  drowsed  the  mind ; 
Now  of  the  ape-kind,  both  for  sense  and  size  ; 
Man  eats,  and  drinks,  and  propagates,  and  dies. 
Good  gods  !  if  thus  to  live  our  errand  here, 
Is  parting  with  life's  trifles  worth  our  fear  ? 
Or  what  grim  furies  have  us  in  their  power 
More  in  the  dying,  than  each  living  hour  ? 


168 

Ills  from  ourselves,  but  none  from  nature  flow, 
And  Virtue's  path  cannot  descend  to  woe  ; 
What  Nature  gives,  receive  ;   her  laws  obey  ; 
If  you  must  die  to-morrow,  live  to-day. 

The  prior  states,  thy  mind  has  laboured  through, 
Are  drown'd  in  Lethe,  whose  black  waves  pursue 
To  roll  oblivion  on  each  yesterday. 
And  will  to-morrow  sweep  thyself  away. 

But  where  ?   Not  more  unknown  is  future  fate, 
Than  thine  own  end  and  essence  in  this  state. 
We  see  our  shapes,  and  feel  ten  thousand  things ; 
We  reason,  act,  and  sport  on  fancy's  wings  ; 
While  yet  this  agent,  yet  this  spirit,  lies 
Hid  from  itself,  and  puzzles  all  the  wise. 
In  vain  we  seek  ;    inverted  eyes  are  blind  ; 
And  nature  form'd  no  mirror  for  the  mind. 
Like  some  close  cell,  where  art  excludes  the  day, 
Save  what  through  optics  darts  its  pencil'd  ray, 
And  paints  its  lively  landscape  to  the  sight, 
While  yet  the  space  itself  is  blank  in  night. 
Nor  can  you  find,  with  all  your  boasted  art. 
The  curious  touch,  that  bids  the  salient  heart 
Send  its  warm  purple  round  the  veiny  maze. 
To  fill  each  nerve  with  life,  with  bloom  the  face  ; 
How  o'er  the  heart  the  numbing  palsies  creep, 
To  chill  the  carcase  to  eternal  sleep  ! 
'Tis  ours  t'  improve  this  life,  not  ours  to  know 
From  whence  this  meteor,  when,  or  where  'twill  go 
As  o'er  a  fen,  when  heaven's  involved  in  night, 
An  ignis  fatuus  waves  its  new-born  light  ! 
Now  up,  now  down  the  mimic  taper  plays, 
As  varying  Auster  puffs  the  trembling  blaze, 
Soon  the  light  phantom  spends  its  magic  store. 
Dies  into  darkness,  and  is  seen  no  more. 


169 

Thus  run  our  changes  ;  but  in  this  secure, 
Heaven  trusts  no  mortal's  fortune  in  his  power, 
Nor  hears  the  prayers  impertinent  we  send 
To  alter  Fate,  or  Providence  to  mend. 
As  well  in  judgment,  as  in  mercy  kind, 
<jod  hath  for  both  the  fittest  state  designed  ; 
The  wise  on  death,  the  fools  on  life  depend. 
Waiting  with  sweet  reverse  their  toils  to  end. 
Scheme  after  scheme  the  dupe  successive  tries, 
And  never  gains,  though  hopes  to  gain  the  prize. 
From  the  delusion  still  he  ne'er  will  wake. 
But  dreams  of  bliss,  and  lives  on  the  mistake. 
Thus  Tantalus,  in  spite,  the  Furies  plied, 
Tortured,  and  charmed  to  wish,  and  yet  denied, 
In  every  wish  infatuate  dreads  lest  Jove 
Should  move  him  from  the  torments  of  his  love, 
To  see  the  tempting  fruit,  and  streams  no  more. 
And  trust  his  Maker  in  some  unknown  shore. 
Death  buries  all  diseases  in  the  grave. 
And  gives  us  freedom  from  each  fool  and  knave, 
To  worlds  unknown  it  kindly  wafts  us  o^er  ; 
Gome,  Death !  my  guide,  I'm  raptured  to  explore  ! 


The  good  and  learned  Doctor  Eliot,  in  his 
New  England  Biographical  Dictionary  forgot  his 
usual  gentleness  in  describing  Pratt,  and  repre- 
sented him  as  haughty  and  forgetful  of  his  early 
friends — but  a  writer  in  the  Anthology  for  1810, 
has  with  great  justice  and  candour  discussed  this 
subject  and  defended  Pratt's  reputation  so  ably 
that  I  cannot  do  better  than  to  quote  his  own 
words. 


22 


170 


"  Benjamin  Pratt,  a  celebrated  lawyer  in  Boston,  and  after- 
wards chief  justice  of  New  York,  &c."  We  are  obliged  to 
protest  against  the  view  given  of  Judge  Pratt,  as  both  defec- 
tive and  erroneous.  This  article  does  not  bear  the  impress  of 
justice  and  liberality  which  the  other  parts  of  the  work  exhi- 
bit ;  and  we  think  the  biographer  in  penning  it  could  not  have 
reflected  on  the  tendency  of  his  remarks.  We  have  always 
been  accustomed  to  take  pride  in  the  name  of  Mr.  Pratt,  as 
among  the  early  literary  and  scientific  men  of  our  country ; 
a  man  pre-eminently  intellectual,  and  highly  respected  and 
beloved  by  the  best  judges  of  merit  in  his  own  time.  Our 
biographer  admits  Mr.  P's  splendid  abilities.  As  a  lawyer  he 
stood  tirst  among  men  of  great  legal  research  and  eloquence. 
Tt  would  have  been  well  to  note  how  well  the  recommenda- 
tion of  him  by  Pownal  to  the  oflice  of  chief  justice  of  New 
York  was  supported  by  the  claims  of  his  talents  and  distinc- 
tion at  the  bar.  He  reflected  lustre  on  the  station.  It  has 
been  often  told  by  numbers  of  highest  authority,  who  lived  in 
his  time,  and  who  delight  to  talk  him  over,  that  when  he  took 
his  seat  on  the  bench  of  the  supreme  court  of  New  York,  he 
was  treated  with  great  coldness  and  even  disrespect,  by  the 
side  judges  and  the  bar ;  but  that  he  had  been  in  his  chair 
but  a  few  days  in  the  first  term,  when  a  very  intricate  cause, 
which  had  been  hung  up  for  years,  was  brought  before  the 
court.  Judge  Pratt  entered  into  it  with  quick  and  keen  per- 
ception, caught  its  difficulties  with  wonderful  success ;  and 
gave  a  statement  of  the  case  so  luminous,  profound  and  elo- 
quent, that  he  became  immediately  the  object  of  admiration 
to  those,  who  were  disposed,  but  not  able,  to  withhold  their 
applause.  We  have  seen  his  answer  to  a  respectful  and  affec- 
tionate address  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  bar  in  Boston,  on  his 
departure  for  New  York.  It  is  the  language  of  feeling  and 
honourable  sentiment. 

As  a  politician,  he  was  in  PownaKs  time  of  the  whig  or 
popular  party,  but  no  friend  of  license. 


171 


"  When  Pownal  left  the  province,  Pratt  lost  entirely  the  regard  of 
the  people.  The  merchants  and  mechanics  in  the  town  were  very  in- 
dignant at  his  conduct  in  the  general  court  in  supporting  a  motion  to 
send  away  the  province  ship.  This  ship,  though  owned  by  the  govern- 
ment, was  designed  to  protect  the  trade,  and  the  merchants  had  sub- 
scribed liberally  towards  building  her.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  the  war,  it 
was  proposed  by  Pownal's  friends,  that  this  ship  should  leave  the  sta- 
tion, and  the  trade  suffer  merely  for  his  personal  honour  and  safety. 
The  clamour  was  so  great,  that  the  governor  found  it  necessary  to 
take  his  passage  in  a  private  vessel.  Rut  the  spirit  of  the  people  was 
not  suddenly  calmed.  A  larger  town  meeting  than  ever  had  assembled 
at  Faneuil  Hall,  discovered  their  displeasure  by  leading  out  Pratt  and 
Tyng  from  the  list  of  their  representatives." 

Audi  alteram  partem.     We  have  heard  additional  statements, 
which  give  this  business  another  complexion.     As  we   have 
been  told,  the  friends  of  Pownal  alleged  the  compatibility  of 
the  compliment  to  his  excellency  and  the  interest  of  the  pro- 
vince.    According  to  their  proposal,  the  ship  was  to  leave  the 
coast  in  time  of  war,  it  is  true ;  but  the  period  of  her  absence 
was  to  be  from  fall  to  spring,  when  she  was  commonly  in  har- 
bour; and  she  would  return  to   her  station  before  the  usual 
time  of  her  being  at  sea  in  the  opening  of  the  year;  mean- 
while she  was  to  have  new  sails  and  repairs  in  England,  for 
which  the  governor  was  willing  to  be  in  advance  to  the  pro- 
vince ;    and    she   was   also  to  bring   out  the   reimbursement 
money  granted  by  Parliament.     But  the  measure  did  not  hap- 
pen to  take  with  the  merchants  or  the  people  in  general ;  and 
two  persons,  who  wanted  the  places  of  Pratt  and  Tyng,  find- 
ing the  populace  fermentable  upon  the  subject,  managed  it  so 
adroitly  as  to  carry  their  point.     Several  days  after  the  gene- 
ral court,  which  had  voted  the  ship  to  the   governor,   had  ad- 
journed, four  or  five  hundred  heroes  assembled  in  mob,  and 
dismantled  the  frigate  which  was  preparing  for  the  voyage  ; 
and  to  vindicate  their  conduct,  when  they  came  to  vote  at  the 
next  election  of  representatives,  of  course  passed  over  those 
gentlemen,  whose  proceeding  had  made  it  necessary  for  them 
to  interfere  and  save  the  country.     We  do  not  mean  to  vouch 
for  all  these  circumstances,  because  we  have  not  fully  exam- 


172 


iWd  for  ourselves  ;  but  we  apprehend  thej  afford  substantially 
the  true  solution.  "  The  inhabitants  of  that  town,"  says  the 
biographer,  "could  never  love  a  man,  who  had  no  compla- 
cency in  his  disposition,  nor  urbanity  in  his  manners ;  a  man 
who  emerged  from  low  life  to  a  high  station,  and  despised 
those,  who  formerly  knew  him,  even  those  from  whom  he 
received  favours."  Why  here  is  enongh  to  tarnish  the  mem- 
ory of  any  man.  But  really  the  Doctor  has  gone  too  far.  If 
there  was  any  thing  in  Mr.  Pratt's  disposition  or  demeanour 
that  bore  the  semblance  of  such  faults  as  are  here  intimated, 
we  are  persuaded  it  was  but  semblance,  or  at  least  they  did 
not  exist  in  such  a  degree  as  to  be  given  for  his  character ;  or 
deserve  to  stand  out  upon  the  piece,  as  they  do  in  this  sketch. 
There  is  evidence  that  Mr.  Pratt's  domestic  character  was 
amiable.  A  person  resident  in  his  family  for  many  years  has 
always  represented  him  in  this  light,  and  private  documentg 
remain,  which  confirm  the  impression.  By  those  of  his  pro- 
fession who  knew  him,  particularly  two  gentlemen  of  distin- 
guished name  now  alive,  he  has  been  mentioned  indeed  as 
somewhat  high  and  quick  in  his  feelings ;  but  not  deficient  in 
urbanity  ;  and  in  conversation  and  manners  attractive  and 
pleasing.  The  harsh  animadversions  we  have  cited  were  no 
doubt  made  by  individuals,  and  by  the  biographer  imagined 
true.  We  can  believe  that  chief  justice  P.  might  have  shown 
more  solicitude  to  have  his  elevation  forgiven  by  those  who 
remembered  him  as  once  on  their  own  level  ;  and  to  be 
thought  sensible  of  their  favours  received  in  his  day  of  small 
things.  But  we  also  believe  and  know,  that  no  man,  however 
circumspect,  can  ever  run  his  career,  and  not  be  unreasonably 
charged  with  self-consequence  and  ingratitude.  The  pride  of 
the  low  will  always  dictate  suspicions  of  the  pride  of  the  emi- 
nent, and  benefits  conferred  by  the  narrow-minded  are  a  bar- 
gain for  endless  attentions  and  acknowledgments. 

"What  talents  Judge  Pratt  possessed  as  a  fine  writer  we  cannot  learn 
from  any  publication  with  his  name.  The  verses  found  in  his  study, 
and  published  in  the  Royal  American  Magazine  for  April,  1774,  dis- 
cover a  strong  vigour  of  fancy.  If  these  were  his  oKn  compositions  he 
ought  to  have  exercised  a  fine  genius  for  poetry  r'' 


173 

These  expressions  convey  a  doubt,  which  we  presume  no  one 
entertains.  Our  author  was  led  to  them  partly  by  the  title  in 
the  Magazine  ;  "  Verses  found  among  the  manuscripts  of  the 
late  Hon.  Benjamin  Pratt,  Esq.  chief  justice  of  the  province 
of  New  York,  supposed  to  be  written  by  himself.''''  The  idea  that 
no  other  poetical  production  ascribed  to  the  same  author  has 
ever  appeared,  might  seem  to  justify  hesitation.  We  have 
been  told  of  others,  believed  to  be  his,  in  print ;  one  on  castle 
building,  another,  lines  on  leaving  college.  As  Mr.  P's  powers 
in  poetry  were  celebrated  in  his  life  time  as  the  strongest 
marks  of  his  mind ;  as  the  evidence  of  his  manuscripts  has 
not  been  contradicted  by  any  discovery  or  circumstance  since 
the  publication  of  these  verses,  they  are  clearly  due  to  him." 

Pratt's  highest  ambitioa  was  gratified  in  his 
matrimonial  connexion,  for  he  married  a  most  ac- 
complished woman,  the  daughter  of  Judge  Auch- 
MUTY — one  who  saw  her  husband's  fair  propor- 
tions in  his  mind — and  one  who  turned  from  the 
fashionable  and  elegant  suitors  around  her,  to 
whom  by  birth,  fortune,  and  female  charms  siie 
had  a  full  claim,  to  lavish  her  affections  on  him, 
enamoured  with  his  virtues  and  his  intellect. 
They  had  two  children,  a  son  and  a  daughter  ; 
the  latter  married  in  Boston,  and  has  left  children 
and  grand  children,  who  are  among  our  most  re- 
spectable inhabitants.  Chief  Justice  Pratt  had 
always  in  view,  while  in  New  York,  the  period 
when  it  would  be  convenient  for  him  to  return  to 
his  native  State,  and  enjoy  the  otiiim  cimi  digni- 
tate.     The  sons  of  New  England  are  every  where 


174 

to  be  found,  from  the  equator  to  the  poles — there 
is  not  a  sea,  a  mouutain,  a  vale  or  river,  which  has 
not  been  visited  by  New  England  enterprise  ;  but 
wherever  they  are  settled,  or  however  prosperous 
they  may  be,  they  remember  with  delight  the  land 
of  their  nativity — the  land  of  schools  and  churches 
— of  plain  manners  and  steady  habits. 

Judge  Pratt  died  at  New  York,  on  the  5th  of 
January,  1763,  in  the  54tb  year  of  his  age,  leaving 
his  friends  and  contemporaries,  Gridley,  Otis 
and  others,  feiill  liviug.  Death  is  not  charmed  by 
eloquence,  nor  warded  off  by  virtues  ;  the  monarch 
of  worlds  loves  to  point  his  dart  near  the  throne  of 
Omnipotence,  and  to  send  those  who  bear  the 
brightest  image  of  their  Maker  to  mingle  with 
kindred  spirits. 


L.ATHROP. 


«  LAMENT  not  ye,  who  humbly  steal  thro'  life, 

That  Genius  visits  not  your  lowly  shed  ; 

For  ah,  what  woes  and  sorrows  ever  rife, 

Distract  his  hapless  head. 

For  him  awaits  no  balmy  sleep. 

He  wakes  all  night,  and  wakes  to  weep  ; 

Or,  by  his  lonely  lamp  he  sits, 

At  solemn  midnight,  when  the  peasant  sleeps, 

In  fev'rish  study,  and  in  moody  fits 

His  mournful  vigils  keeps. 

"  And  oh  !  for  what  consumes  his  watchful  oil  ? 

For  what  does  thus  he  waste  life's  fleeting  breath  ? 

'Tis  for  neglect  and  pen'ry  he  doth  toil, 

'Tis  for  untimely  death, 

Lo  !  where  dejected,  pale  he  lies, 

Despair  depicted  in  his  eyes. 

He  feels  the  vital  frame  decrease. 

He  sees  the  grave,  wide  yawning  for  its  prey, 

Without  a  friend  to  sooth  his  soul  to  peace 

And  cheer  the  expiring  ray. 

H.  K.  White's  Ode  to  Genius. 


JOHN  LATHROP  was  born  in  Boston,  Jan- 
uary, 1772.  He  was  son  to  the  Rev.  John  La- 
THROP,  D.  D.  pastor  of  a  Congregational  Church 
in  the  same  place ;  a  gentleman  highly  respected 


176 

for  his  virtues    and  good  sense.     His   son   was 
graduated  at  Harvard  University  in  tlie  year  1789, 
and   was    distinguislied   for  liis    scholarsliip   and 
taste  in  a  class  in  whicli  were  numbered  Kirk- 
land,  the  Blakes,  and   other  men  of  celebrity. 
On  leaving  college  he  entered  the  oflBce  of  Chris- 
topher Gore,  late  Grovernor   of  this   Common- 
wealth,   as   a   student   at   law,    and   pursued  his 
studies  with  considerable  assiduity.     Gtore  was  a 
man  of  industry,  talents,  and  success  in  business, 
and  of  such  weight  and  standing  in  the  community, 
as   to  give   a  very  considerable  direction  to  the 
views  and  pursuits  of  his  pupils.     But  even  in  this 
law  office,   Lathrop,  at  intervals  of  his  studies, 
stole  a  few  moments  to  sacrifice  to  the  Muses,  and 
became  more  known  to  the  public  as  a  poet  than 
as  a  lawyer.     He  opened  an  office  in  Boston,  had 
many  friends  and  some  business,  but  not  sufficient 
to  answer  his  expectations,  and  in  1797  he  remov- 
ed  to  Dedham,  in   the  County  of  Norfolk,  and 
opened  his  office  in  tlie  neighbourhood  of  that  far- 
famed  statesman,  Fisher  Ames,  in  whose  com- 
pany he  enjoyed  much  as  a  literary  man.     In  the 
following  year,  1798,  he  was  appointed  Clerk  of 
the  Courts  for  tliat  County,  but  this  station  was  not 
suited  to  his  talents  or  habits,  and  he  left  it  with- 
out much  regret,,   and  returned  to  Boston.      In 


177  • 

Boston  he  had  found  congenial  spirits.  At  this 
tirae  he  associated  with  the  poets  of  the  day, 
Paine,  Prentiss  and  others.  There  were  in 
Boston  several  editors  of  papers,  men  of  open 
hearts,  generous  dispositions,  and  possessing  con- 
siderable influence  in  society :  around  them  the 
poets  and  men  of  taste  and  letters  assembled,  and 
were  always  sure  of  a  cordial  reception,  and  any 
act  of  friendship  they  might  need  to  free  them 
from  temporary  embarrassments.  At  their  houses 
these  poets  found  the  "  Caena  Deum*'  at  which  they 
indulged  their  fancies  and  regaled  their  appetites. 
Paine  was  bold  in  his  views,  quick  at  retort, 
and  sometimes  fearfully  sarcastic.  His  genius 
was  certainly  of  an  high  order,  and  his  imagina- 
tion prolific.  His  talents  always  commanded  ad- 
miration, his  wit  excited  merriment  and  delight. 
He  was  followed  and  eulogized,  honoured  by 
attentions,  and  considered  by  all,  the  first  poet  of 
the  place.  Lathrop  was  modest,  learned  and 
poetical,  but  had  much  less  of  the  ardour  of  genius,^ 
and  the  sparkling  of  wit  than  Paine,  but  more 
chastity  of  style,  and  more  method  in  his  compo- 
sitions and  conversations.  Prentiss  was  easy, 
familiar,  good  natured  and  poetical,  and  amused 
himself  at  the  parade  of  learning  in  Paine,  and 
laughed  at  the  sentimental  solemnity  of  Lathrop. 
23 


178 

These  wits  and  poets  were  not  destined  to  live  in 
peace  for  a  great  wliile  ;  Paine  perceived  how 
much  purer  was  the  taste  of  Lathrop  than  iiis 
own,  and  the  latter  felt  no  small  disturbance  at  the 
unbounded  fame  of  his  rival.  It  was  not  a  period 
of  fair  and  just  criticism  and  good  taste.  The 
extravagancies  of  genius  were  more  highly  valued 
than  the  sweetest  inspirations  of  the  most  refined 
and  classical  Muse.  These  wits  were  not  con- 
tented with  brisk  attacks  and  keen  retorts  at  table, 
but  pursued  each  other  into  the  public  papers  ; 
and  in  the  general  opinion,  Paine  had  the  advan- 
tage; for  boldness,  strength,  and  even  coarseness 
of  sarcasm,  are  better  comprehended  by  the  gen- 
erality of  men  than  refined  irony  and  polished 
satire  ;  to  them  the  tomahawk  seems  a  more  fearful 
weapon  than  the  sword.  These  effusions  were 
the  bane  of  their  repose,  and  an  interruption  to 
their  pursuits.  The  public  are  pleased  with  such 
a  contest ;  they  love  to  see  these  rockets  of  wit  and 
satire  thrown  for  their  sport ;  but  the  principals  in 
the  affair,  are  always  sufferers  in  their  professional 
business,  fur  clients  are  sharp-eyed,  and  see  when 
men  attend  more  to  amusements  and  other  pursuits, 
than  to  their  interests  ;  and  in  their  justly  jealous 
dispositions  no  splendour  of  genius  will  ever  make 
amends  for  deficiency  of  attention.     In  1799,  not 


179 

being  satisfied  with  his  success  in  the  profession 
of  the  law,  Lathrop  determined  on  a  bold  push 
to   better  his  fortunes,  and  embarked  for   India; 
there  his  fancy  had  pictured  every  thing  in  gold 
and  precious    stones.     To  him  it  was  painful  to 
leave  his  friends  and  his  home,  for  a  far  distant 
country,    but   in   so    doing   there   was    something 
romantic,   which    suited    his    disposition,   and    he 
persuaded  himself  that  in  a  few  years  he  should 
return  with  a  rich  harvest  of  wealth  to  gladden 
their  hearts ;    but  had  gold  rained  there,  as  in  the 
fabled  shower,  he  would  not  have  gathered  more 
than  he  wanted  for  the  present  use.     Cfold  to  him 
was  like  the  manna  to  the  children  of  Israel,   its 
supply  could  only  be  for  the  day :     And  would  to 
Heaven  that  for  such  men  it  could  fall   at  regular 
periods,  to  answer  their  demands,  and  no  more  ; 
for  want  makes  them  unstable  and  wretched,  and 
a   profusion    produces    negligence,   eccentricities, 
and  folly. 

In  India  he  was  destined  to  new  disappoint- 
ments. The  government  was  arbitrary,  and  the 
places  of  profit  were  filled.  The  rulers  were  jeal- 
ous of  adventurers  of  other  nations,  and  particu- 
larly at  this  period,  when  continental  Europe  was 
in  a  paroxysm  of  liberty,  and  every  thing  bold 
and  free  in  literature  and  politics  was  dreaded  by 


180 

the  prudent  and  the  wise.     Lathrop  established 
a  school  in  Calcutta,  but  was  of  course   narrowly 
watched  by  the  government,  and  very  much  limit- 
ed in  his  plans  of  instruction.     They  were  willing 
that  he  should  teach  in  elementary  knowledge,  but 
feared  an  extensive  system  of  education,  as  full  of 
evils  to  their  poliiieal  establishments.     An  anec- 
dote will  illustrate  this  assertion.     In  the  ardour 
of  his  zeal  for  instructing  the  rising  generation  of 
Calcutta,   he   presented  to  the  Governor  General 
(the  Marquis  of  Wellesly)  a  plan  of  an  Institu- 
tion, at  which  the  youths  of  India  might  receive 
an  education,  without  going  to   England   for  that 
purpose.     In  an  interview  with  his  Lordship,  La- 
throp urged  with  great  fervency  and  eloquence, 
the  advantages  that  he  believed  would  flow  from  a 
seminary  well   endowed,  and  properly  patronized 
by  the  government,  on  such  a  plan  as  he  recom- 
mended ;  but  his  Lordship  opposed  the  plan,  and 
in   his   decided   and   vehement   manner,    replied, 
«No,    no  Sir,   India  is   and  ever  ought  to  be  a 
Colony  of  Great  Britain  ;  the  seeds  of  Indepen- 
dence  must  not   be  sown   here.     Establishing  a 
seminary  in  New  England  at  so  early  a  period  of 
time  hastened  your  revolution  half  a  century." — 
This  remark  had  mucli  shrewdness  in  it,  for  it  is 
an  unquestionable  fact,  that  the  diffusion  of  know- 


181 

ledge  in  New  England,  assisted  in  preparing  the 
way  for  our  separation  from  the  mother  country. 
Harvard  University  has  done  much^  in  spreading 
the  spirit  of  free  inquiry  amongst  us.  At  this  In- 
stitution ecclesiastical  and  political  rights  were 
discussed  as  common  topics  of  forensic  disputation^ 
and  the  reciprocal  duties  of  rulers  and  people  were 
in  the  mouths  of  every  student  at  a  very  early  age 
of  our  history.  When  discussion  is  free,  decision 
and  action  will  always  follow  settled  opinion ;  but 
the  manners,  habits  and  feelings  of  the  inhabitants 
of  India  will  long  differ  from  those  of  the  people 
of  the  United  States ;  and  his  Lordship's  fears 
drew  too  sudden  a  parallel. 

Narrow  and  confined  as  Lathrop's  plans  were, 
a  man  of  common  prudence  might  have  amassed 
wealth  very  rapidly,  with  half  the  labour  he  be- 
stowed in  this  pursuit. 

At  the  same  time  that  he  was  instructing  chil- 
dren at  Calcutta,  he  wrote  for  the  papers  of  the 
day,  first  in  the  Hurcarrah,  and  subsequently  in 
the  Post,  both  papers  of  extensive  circulation  in 
Calcutta ;  but  these  papers  were  so  trammelled  by 
governmental  restrictions,  that  their  tone  and  spirit 
were  in  a  great  measure  lost.  No  freedom  of  re- 
mark, no  boldness  of  discussion  was  ever  allowed 
in  their  columns.     Every  paper,   before  it  was 


182 

priuted  for  the  public,  was  iuspeeted  by  au  officer 
of  the  goveruineQt  evea  to  an  advertisement ;  this 
fact  fully  appears  from  documents  I  have  in  my 
possession  which  belonged  to  Laturop. 

Born  and  educated  in  a  country,  where  freedom 
is  ever  approximating  to  licentiousness,  and  check- 
ed only  by  laws  and  not  by  men ;  where  every 
matter,  civil,  religious  or  political,  is  canvassed 
without  fear  or  even  caution,  it  might  be  expected 
that  he  would  be  an  ardent  lover  of  liberty ;  but 
Lathrop  shrunk  from  polities  under  tlie  iron  hand 
and  Argus  eyes  of  despotic  power,  although  every 
feeling  of  his  heart  was  loyal,  and  every  opinion 
he  entertained  sound  and  legitimate.  These  re- 
strictions gave  a  different  cast  to  his  thoughts,  and 
he  indulged  in  the  playful  and  sentimental  sort  of 
writing,  in  which  he  certainly  excelled  ;  but  the 
magic  of  the  nightingale's  note  is  lost  when  the 
songster  is  confined  in  the  cage. 

I  have  seen  several  pieces  of  his  written  for  the 
Pasty  which  were  of  no  ordinary  ciiaracter.  The 
visit  to  the  burial  ground  in  Calcutta  is  full  of  deep 
and  solemn  reflections.  Over  the  ashes  and  at  the 
monument  of  Sir  William  Jones,  his  musings 
were  truly  sublime.  Jones  was  a  subject  calcu- 
lated to  wake  every  exalted  feeling,  and  worthy 
of  the   most   transcendent  praise,  for  he   united 


183 

every  quality  and  accomplishment  which  dignifies 
man  and  consecrates  the  memory  of  genius.  But 
a  mind  like  Lathrop's,  ever  verdant  with  hopes 
and  ever  overflowing  with  sympathies,  could  not 
be  at  a  loss  for  objects  of  admiration  and  love. 
Burning  suns  and  despotic  rule,  which  is  death  to 
patriotism,  can  never  destroy  the  affections  of  the 
heart,  for  their  nature  is  eternal. 

Lathrop  spent  ten  years  in  India,  which  had 
in  them  many  pleasures,  as  well  as  many  incon- 
veniences. He  passed  a  life  of  labour  and  fatigue; 
of  luxury,  splendour  and  ill  health;  but  labour 
was  compensated  by  gain,  although  pain  followed 
enjoyment. 

This  was  an  eventful  period  of  the  world,  and 
distance  gave  a  deeper  interest  to  every  thing 
going  on  in  his  native  country,  and  excited  in  him 
the  strongest  desire  to  return  ;  and  he  did  return, 
in  the  prime  of  life,  with  a  constitution  injured, 
but  not  broken  ;  a  literary  man  by  profession  and 
habits,  with  a  judgment  ripened  by  experience  and 
reflection,  with  a  patriotism  increased  by  compar- 
ing his  own  with  other  countries,  and  a  love  of 
public  justice  enhanced  by  an  acquaintance  with 
political  crimes. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  his  style  at  this 
time  was  more  critically  correct  and  less  abound- 


184 

ing  in  figures  and  epithets  than  it  was  before   he 
went  to  India,  but  whether  this  should  be  consid- 
ered a  merit,  I  leave  others  to  judge.     Most  per- 
sons by  long  residence  in  the  East  catch  something 
of  the  oriental   manner  of  writing:  dwelling  in 
those  regions  where  nature  is  ever  in  the  extremes, 
and  where  beauty  and  deformity  forever  exist  in 
contrast,  the  mind  becomes  romantic,   and  fancy 
and  fact   are  constantly  commingled.     The  chil- 
dren of  the  Sun  are  never  tame  or  dull,  they  are 
sometimes  effeminate  and  feeble,  but  full  of  imagi- 
nation and  fire ;  their  action  is  passion,  and  their 
repose  is  reverie.     Every  page  of  their  literature 
is  strewed  with  flowers  of  the  brightest  hues,  and, 
as  it  were,  perfumed  with   their  essence.     This 
singularity   of  retaining    his    original  simplicity 
must  be  referred  to  early  discipline,  or  some  per- 
tinacity of  temper,  which  he  was  not  thought  to 
have  possessed,   for  the  greatest  men    and    most 
elesant  scholars  have  become  enamoured  with  the 
richness  of  oriental  literature.     ^*  The   all-accom- 
plished" Jones  seemed  imbued  with  the  aroma  of 
every  flower  that  he  culled  and  transplanted  to  an 
English  page.     Some  severe  critics  have  said  that 
his  style  was  enfeebled  by  the  fondness  for  orna- 
ment which  he  had  acquired    by  his  devotion  to 
oriental  learning ;  this  may  have  been  the  fact,  but 


185 

wherever  he  loitered,  wherever  he  revelled,  cr 
wherever  he  worshipped,  by  the  waters  of  Helicon, 
in  the  bowers  of  the  Muses,  or  on  the  banks  of 
Jordan,  he  was  still,  in  every  place,  an  Apollo 
interrogating  nature,  developing  science,  and  dis- 
coursing wisdom  ;  or  a  holy  seer  establishing  the 
true  faith,  and  proving  the  miracles  of  the  gospel, 
which  are  at  once  the  ornaments  and  evidences  of 
divine  revelation. 

Lathrop  was  married  once  in  this  country  and 
twice  in  India.     His  first  wife  he  married  in  1793 
— she  was  the  eldest  daughter  of  Joseph  Pierce, 
Esquire,  of  Boston,  a  lady  of  great  beauty,  talents 
and  accomplishments,  formed   for  the   grace  and 
pride  of  society ;  he  loved  her  with  a  poet's  fond- 
ness and  with  more  than  a  poet's  constancy,  and 
she  returned  his  affection  through  every  chano-e  of 
circumstances  during  her  life.     She  had  by  him 
four  children,  but  one  oaly  of  them  is  now  living. 
Lathrop  was  a  delightful  companion,  and  every 
one  who  knew  him  was  fond  of  him.     The  little 
children  kept  memorandums   of  his  kindness,  for 
he  sung  their  joys,  or  lamented  their  misfortunes, 
however  trifling   the  incident,  with  parental  fond- 
ness  and  feeling.     He,   indeed,   mingled   with   all 
social  beings  that  came  in  his  way  as  far  as  they 
would  permit  him,  and  his  soul  seemed  to  diffuse 
24 


186 

itself  into  every  pleasure  or  pain  which  came  in 
his  course,  aud  frequently  without  necessity  or 
reason.  But  notwithstanding  his  susceptibility  he 
was  not  fickle.  It  might  be  said  of  him,  as  was 
said  of  a  greater  man,  but  one  with  something  of 
his  cast  of  character,  that  "  his  enmities  were  pla- 
cable, and  his  friendships  eternal." 

When  he  returned  to  tliis  country  in  1809,  our 
cummercial  prosperity  was  on  the  wane,  and  our 
literary  institutions  of  course  suffered  from  the 
stagnation  of  business.  He  had  resolved  on  his 
return  to  establish  a  literary  Journal  on  an  exten- 
sive plan,  but  his  friends  gave  liim  but  little  en- 
couragement of  the  success  of  such  a  paper.  Poli- 
tics had  at  this  time  pervaded  all  ranks  of  people, 
absorbed  every  other  passion,  and  interrupted 
every  other  pursuit.  The  parties  were  rancorous, 
and  nothing  would  answer  for  publication  that  was 
not  highly  seasoned  with  politics.  He  was  not 
prepared  by  disposition  or  studies  to  enter  into 
this  contest,  and  there  was  nothing  left  for  him  to 
pursue,  but  the  profession  of  an  instructor,  as  he 
liad  been  too  long  out  of  tlie  practice  of  the  law  to 
do  any  thing  among  so  many  as  he  found  at  the 
bar.  He  taught  a  school  in  Boston  for  several 
years,  wrote  in  the  papers,  delivered  lectures  on 
Natural  Philosophy,  and  gave  the  public  several 


187 

songs  and  orations,  for  festive  and  masonic  pur- 
poses ;  but  all  these  exertions  did  but  barely  sup- 
port him,  and  added  nothing  of  importance  to  his 
literary  renown ;  though  these  productions  were 
frequently  excellent.  An  occasional  writer  gains 
no  permanent  fame,  if  his  works  are  given  only  to 
a  newspaper,  for  every  thing  in  them  is  fugitive. 
Tired  of  this  kind  of  life,  which  from  habitual 
carlessness  was  not  followed  with  assiduity  or 
punctuality,  and  of  course  was  without  much  profit 
or  celebrity,  he  formed  a  determination  to  remove 
to  the  South,  expecting  there  to  find  congenial 
souls,  and  a  better  fortune.  At  the  cities  of 
Washington  and  Georgetown,  in  the  District  of 
Columbia,  lie  continued  !iis  profession  of  an  in- 
structer,  a  lecturer,  and  writer  in  the  papers  of  the 
day.  Through  the  influence  of  his  literary  fiiends 
he  obtained  a  situation  in  tiie  Post-office,  wliich 
he  held  for  some  time,  but  these  every-day  and 
precise  duties  grew  irksome,  and  were  sometimes 
neglected  ;  but  from  the  consideration  of  his  pecu- 
niary wants,  his  talents,  and  pleasant  disposition  ; 
and  above  all,  from  the  respectability  and  power 
of  his  friends  and  patrons,  he  was  retained  when 
others  would  have  been  dismissed  for  inattention. 
His  manners  too,  were  so  bland,  modest  and  aifee- 
tionate,  his  principles  so  good,  his  heart  so  open 


188 

and  communicative,  that  he  was  loved  and  sup- 
ported, when  his  negligence  of  duty,  and  careless- 
ness of  himself  would  have  cast  an  ordinary  man 
out  of  the  pale  of  elevated  society.  His  friends 
were  sometimes  distressed  at  his  want  of  foresight 
and  prudence,  and  grew  cool  towards  him  for  a 
while,  but  sucli  was  the  sweetness  of  his  temper, 
and  his  freedom  from  envy,  malice,  or  any  bad 
passion,  that  he  was  received  again  into  favour. 
The  willingness  to  share  his  last  shilling  with  the 
indigent  and  wretched,  never  left  him,  although 
he  hud  been  deceived,  betrayed  and  fleeced  an 
hundred  times  ;  and  when  he  had  nothing  else, 
"  he  gave  to  misery  all  he  had,  a  tear,"  and  would 
share  in  the  distress  of  any  one  wheu  sympathy 
could  not  relieve  it.  For  some  time  previous  his 
nerves  had  been  shattered  and  his  spirits  broken, 
and  he  sank  into  the  embraces  of  death,  on  the 
30th  day  of  January,  1820 — a  victim  of  sensi- 
bility. 

The  evils  which  too  often  attend  genius  are 
benevolence,  generosity  and  confidence,  carried 
beyond  the  dictates  of  a  souud  judgment.  The 
heart  warmed  with  kindness,  and  flowing  with 
tenderness,  is  too  easily  wounded,  and  is  lavish  of 
its  aflfections,  until  sad  experience  eitlier  shuts  up 
its  pores,  deadens  its  pulses,  or  breaks  it  altogther. 


189 

Unlimited  confidence  in  mankind  always  ends  in 
disappointment;  and  frequently  in  misanthropy. 
The  man  of  feeling  wastes  much  of  his  sustenance 
upon  the  ungrateful,  and  many  of  his  best  sym- 
pathies upon  those  who  do  not  deserve  them. 
If  fortune  changes  and  he  wants  assistance,  he 
then  finds  with  what  tenacity  others  hold  their 
wealth,  and  what  false  estimates  he  has  made  of 
character.  He  is  frequently  denied  where  he  ex- 
pected succour,  and  relieved  where  he  anticipated 
oppression.  Many  sneer  at  his  folly,  from  whom 
he  hoped  commiseration,  and  some  spare  his  feel- 
ings, from  whom  he  dreaded  contumely  and  re- 
proach. He  has  to  make  a  new  estimate  of  things, 
and  learn  to  practice  a  more  sturdy  philosophy,  if 
he  intend  to  recover  by  struggling  against  the  cur- 
rent that  he  finds  pressing  against  him.  If  this  be 
not  done  instantly,  the  unfortunate  man  is  irre- 
trievably lost;  every  day  brings  a  deeper  sickness 
to  the  heart,  and  every  hour  witnesses  some  por- 
tion of  energy  and  fortitude  gone.  To  one  so 
situated,  literature  loses  its  power  to  charm,  and 
philosophy  her  consolations.  To  him  retrospection 
is  full  of  reproach,  and  hope  seems  to  have  but 
little  to  do  with  the  future.  But  after  all,  that 
men  are  unfortunate  is  not  so  much  the  fault  of  the 
unkind  and  hard  hearts  of  others,  as  the  humane 


190 

and  good  imagine.  It  is  the  fault  of  the  sufferer 
himself;  placed  in  straitened  circumstances,  he 
promises  with  the  solemn  intention  of  performing 
his  obligations,  but  is  unable.  This  leads  him  to 
subterfuges  he  despises,  and  to  courses  he  dis- 
dains. Such  a  man  would  probably  have  suffi- 
cient fortitude  to  suffer,  and  bear  up  against  his 
hard  fate  if  he  were  alone,  but  the  distresses  of  a 
wife  and  family,  dearer  to  him  thau  life,  drive 
him  to  do  almost  any  thing  to  relieve  them.  The 
friends  of  an  embarrassed  man  do  not  always  take 
the  most  proper  measures  to  assist  him,  and  he  too 
often  vents  his  spleen,  when  he  should  be  strug- 
gling to  retrieve  himself.  A  broken  heart  is  a 
more  common  death  than  is  generally  believed,  for 
there  are  but  few  who  can  hold  an  aching  bosom 
with  one  hand  to  prevent  its  bursting,  and  with 
the  other  fight  a  host  of  enemies,  to  gain  a  better 
fortune,  and  go  on  to  victory,  notwithstanding  the 
world  is  more  dreary  than  a  December's  night, 
until 

"  They  wia  the  wise,  who  frown'd  before, 
To  smile  at  last." 

These  are  not  few — the  victims  of  tribulation  and 
misfortune  are  scattered  in  every  path  of  life,  and 
on  every  page  of  domestic  history.  There  are 
a  thousand  brave  souls,  who  fall  on  their  swords 


191 

ID  despair^,  to  one  who  like  Marius  calmly  contetu- 
plates  his  fallen  fortunes  on  the  ruins  around  him, 
and  determines  by  decision,  energy  and  persever- 
ance, to  force  the  fates  to  relent  and  make  him 
prosperous.  But  it  is  idle  to  moralize  too  long — 
the  subject  of  this  sketch  is  beyond  our  wishes  in 
this  world,  and  out  of  the  reach  of  any  maxims, 
however  wise.  His  virtues  were  numerous,  and 
his  faults  few ;  the  former  were  never  so  useful  to 
the  world  as  they  might  have  been,  and  the  latter, 
without  injuring  others  in  any  considerable  degree, 
shed  all  their  baneful  influence  on  himself. 

The  writings  of  Lathrop  were  numerous,  but 
he  published  no  work  of  any  considerable  extent 
or  magnitude.  All  are  worthy  of  being  preserved. 
His  philosophical  lectures  were  sufficiently  learned, 
and  shewed  a  classical  and  delicate  taste.  His 
orations  and  essays  were  neat,  spirited  and  ele- 
gant— and  his  poetical  compositions  will  bear  to 
be  read  along  with  works  of  more  celebrity,  with- 
out apprehension  from  the  comparison.  I  have 
looked  over  his  productions  with  some  attention, 
and  think  they  are  much  better  than  they  are  in 
general  considered.  The  following  Ode,  and 
other  pieces  selected  from  his  works,  if  not  of  the 
first  order  of  fine  writing,  are  evidence  of  pure 
feelings,  and  a  chastened  and  elevated  imagination. 


192 

This  Ode  was  written  for  the  20th  anniversary  of 
the  Massachusetts  Charitable  Fire  Society. 

IF  on  the  haughty  warrior's  brow, 

Is  plac'd  the  crown  of  deathless  fame  ; 
And  earth's  applauding  lords  bestow, 

Their  proudest  titles  on  his  name  ; 
Oh  say,  shall  glory's  partial  hand, 

Withhold  the  meed  to  pity  due, 
When  plaintive  sorrow's  grateful  band 

For  wreaths  to  deck  their  patrons  sue  ? 


A  tear-enamell'd  chaplet  weave, 

Round  BowDoiix's  venerated  urn. 
Where  all  the  patriot  virtues  grieve. 

And  votive  lamps  of  science  burn ; 
Sweet  charity  on  Russell's  tomb, 

A  shower  of  vernal  flow'rets  throws  ; — 
And  bays  of  fadeless  verdure  bloom, 

O'er  classic  Minot's  calm  repose. 


New  England's  worthies  grace  the  pyre, 

Whence  Belknap  soar'd,  forever  blest ! 
Religion  lights  her  hallow'd  fire, 

Where  pious  Stillman's  relics  rest ; — 
Why  mourns  the  Muse  with  tearful  eyes 

While  pondering  o'er  the  roll  of  death  ?- 
Afresh  her  keenest  sorrows  rise, 

With  Emerson's  departed  breath  ! 

Ah  !  Heaven  again  demands  its  own. 

Another  fatal  shaft  is  sped, 
And  genius,  friendship,  learning  mourn 

Their  Buckminster  among  the  dead  i 


193 

To  Eliot's  tomb  ye  Muses,  bring 
Fresh  roses  from  the  breathing  wikl, 

Wet  with  the  tears  of  dewy  spring, 
For  ho  was  virtue's  gentlest  child  ! 

Ye  sainted  spirits  of  the  jqst. 

Departed  friends,  we  raise  our  eyes, 
From  humbler  scenes  of  mould'ring  dust 

To  brighter  mansions  in  the  skies. — 
Where  faith  and  hope,  their  trials  past, 

Shall  smile  in  endless  joy  secure. 
And  charity's  blest  reign  shall  last. 

While  heaven's  eternal  courts  endure. 

The  longest  poem  that  I  have  found  among  his 
works,  is  called  by  him  the  "  Speech  of  Cannoni- 
cus,"  a  Narraganset  chief.  It  describes  the  vene- 
rable sachem  at  the  Council  Fire,  1620,  at  the 
age  of  eighty-four, — resigning  his  authority  to  his 
nephew.  The  puritans  of  that  day  would  not 
have  been  pleased  to  hear  a  pagan  compared  with 
a  holy  man  of  Israel  ;  but  at  this  time  we  may 
venture  to  extract  his  description  of  the  chief. 

At  length — serene  Cannonicus  arose, 

The  patriarch  sachem  of  the  rude  domain  ; 

Such  was  the  ruler,  whom  Jeliovah  chose, 

To  lead  from  Egypt's  bonds  the  Hebrew  train  : — 

60  Moses  look'd,  when  pleas'd,  from  Pisgah's  height, 
He  viewed  the  promis'd  land  to  Israel  given, 

When  round  his  temples  beamed  celestial  hght, 
And  choirs  of  angels  beckoned  him  to  heaven. 

23 


194 

In  his  speech  Cannonicus  goes  deeply  into  the 
mysteries  of  creation  and  providence,  of  which  he 
introduces  the  best  aboriginal  traditions.  The 
creation  of  the  Adam  and  Eve  of  the  Indian  world, 
though  injured  by  a  few  conceits,  is  certainly  of 
no  ordinary  cast. 

There,  God  retired,  elate,  from  mammoth's  death, 

Form'd  Man  of  oak,  and  quickened  him  with  breath, 

Moulding  the  wood  according  to  his  will. 

Nine  moons  his  plastic  hands  employed  their  skill. 

Life's  vital  fount  within  the  breast  he  plac'd, 

And  Reason's  seat  the  brain's  nice  fabric  grac'd, 

Superior  wisdom  beaming  from  his  face, 

Proclaim'd  the  lord  of  earth  and  all  its  race. 

Erect  and  tall  the  new  commander  strode. 

In  shape  and  motion,  noble  as  a  god. 

His  eye,  the  spirit  intellectual  fir'd, 

His  ample  heart  no  vulgar  joys  desir'd, 

For  there,  though  chief,  unrivall'd  and  alone, 

Had  Emulation  tixM  her  blazing  throne. 

Next,  to  complete  th'  Eternal's  glorious  plan. 

Sweet  woman  rose,  the  sole  compeer  of  man, 

Her  voice  was  soft  as  Philomela's  note. 

When  evening's  shades  o'er  flowery  vallies  float ; 

Her  lips  breath'd  fragrance,  like  the  breeze  of  morn. 

And  her  eyes  sparkled  as  the  spangled  thorn. 

Ere  glist'ning  dews,  by  heat  exhaled  away, 

Yield  their  mild  splendours  to  intenser  day. — 

A  silken  skin  adorn'd  her  waving  form, 

Whose  glossy  texture  touch'd — so  smooth — so  warm, 

Through  the  thrill'd  breast  diff'used  a  rapt'rous  glow. 

And  bade  the  blood  with  amorous  phrensy  flow. 

She,  like  the  skies,  which  gazing  tribes  adore, 

Two  beauteous  orbs  upon  her  bosom  bore. 


195 

Whose  charms  united,  blessM  continual  view, 

While  heaven's  lights  singly  deck'd  the  expansive  blue, 

Giving  all  seasons  of  man's  life  to  prove, 

The  bliss  of  constant  and  unfading  love  ; 

Perfect  she  shone,  the  fairest  and  the  best — 

Of  all  God's  works  the  paragon  confest. 

This  pair,  the  parents  of  our  race  designed, 

The  solemn  rites  of  holy  wedlock  joined  ; 

From  their  embraces,  sprang  forth  at  a  birth, 

Of  different  sex,  two  more,  to  people  earth. 

Thence,  still  proceeding,  num'rous  children  smil'd, 

Andgladden'd  with  their  sports  the  shady  wild, 

Till  Paugautemisk  held  paternal  reign, 

O'er  the  throng'd  forest  and  the  busy  plain. 

The  vision  of  the  aged  chief  when  ^'rapt  into 
future  times,"  is  beautiful  and  splendid. 

Thus  heaven  decrees  :  and  swift  elapsing  time, 

Shall  here  behold  an  empire  rise  sublime  ! — 

Sachems,  like  gods,  shall  rule  the  orb  of  state. 

And  mighty  chieftains  wield  the  shafts  of  fate  ; — 

With  energy  divine  shall  law  control, 

And  curb  the  intemperate  passions  of  the  soul, 

But,  to  the  honest  and  industrious  prove. 

Mild  as  the  language  of  parental  love. 

And  here  shall  art  conduct  her  liberal  train. 

And  agriculture  fertilize  the  plain, 

The  mead  shall  bloom,  and  round  the  mountain  pine. 

In  fond  embrace  shall  wind  the  luscious  vine  ; 

The  elder  world  her  richest  gifts  bestow, 

And  science  bid  her  sacred  olive  grow, — 

While  commerce  boldly  shall  unfurl  her  sails. 

And  court  the  polar  and  solstitial  gales, — 

Or  like  an  eagle,  fearless,  speed  her  way, 

On  airy  wings  to  greet  the  rising  day, — 


196 

Or  seek  for  treasures  on  the  wave  where  niffht 
Throws  her  dark  mantle  o'er  the  god  of  light ! 
Thus  shall  a  foreign  race  achieve  the  fame, 
And  on  our  ruins,  raise  a  deathless  name  ! 


This  poem  was  printed  at  the  Hurcarrah  press 
at  Calcutta,  aud  dedicated  to  the  Marquis  of  Wel- 
LESLEY,  but  has  never  been  reprinted  in  this  coun- 
try. 1  obtained  it  from  his  amiable  widow,  a  lady 
whom  Lathrop  married  in  India ;  she  is  a  daugh- 
ter of  a  respectable  English  merchant  in  Calcutta, 
by  the  name  of  Bell,  and  has  returned,  since  the 
death  of  her  husband,  to  her  father. 

The  joys  and  sorrows  of  a  man  of  feeling,  the 
accidents  in  the  life  of  a  man  of  letters,  are  sub- 
jects, however  painful,  we  seldom  wish  to  finish, 
but  dwell  upon  with  a  sort  of  melancholy  pleasure. 
We  weep  at  his  misfortunes,  pity  his  frailties,  and 
gather  up  his  virtues  in  his  epitaph.  In  lingering 
round  his  grave,  we  draw  a  consolation  from  know- 
ing that  all  his  troubles  are  over,  aud  that  he  is  in 
the  hands  of  an  all-perfect  and  benevolent  God. 
If  we  are  wise  we  reflect  on  the  weaknesses  of  the 
dead,  to  shun  them,  and  on  their  virtues  to  imitate 
them.  The  lessons  of  instruction  from  the  tomb 
are  spoken  with  a  tongue,  on  which  hang  more 
than  mortal  accents.  In  tiiis  solemn  musing  we 
come  to  the  just  conclusion,  that  the  happiest  and 


197 

best  of  us  are  beings  of  no  certain  destiny  but 
deathj  and  of  no  stedfast  hopes  but  in  another 
world  ; 

"  Poor  wand'rers  of  a  stormy  day, 
From  wave  to  wave  we're  driven, 
And  Fancy's  flash,  and  Reason's  ray, 
Serve  but  to  light  the  troubled  way — 
There's  nothing  calm  but  heaven !" 


GRIDLEY, 


JEREMIAH  GRIDLEY,  the  subject  of  this 
sketch,  graduated  at  Harvard  University,  1725. 
He  first  engaged  as  an  usher  in  the  Boston  gram- 
mar school,  in  which  capacity  he  continued  for 
several  years,  and  was  succeeded  in  that  office  by 
the  well  known  master  Lovel.  While  engaged 
in  school-keeping,  and  for  some  time  afterwards, 
he  pursued  the  study  of  theology  and  general  lit- 
erature, to  qualify  himself  for  the  pulpit,  and  he 
began  to  preach,  but  either  not  finding  a  parish 
which  suited  his  views,  or  thinking  his  lofty  and 
fastidious  feelings  would  often  be  wounded  in  this 
profession,  or  that  he  should  not  bear  the  cross 
with  true  christain  meekness,  he  turned  his  atten- 
tion to  the  law.  In  this  profession  he  was  born 
to  excel,  having  all  the  qualifications,  but  fluency, 
which  are  required  for  eminence  in  this  course — 
discernment,  readiness,  hardihood  and  persever- 
ance. 

At  the  commencement  of  his  practice,  like  most 
young  men,  be  had  some  leisure  hours,  and  being 


200 

determined  to  be  known  more  extensively  than  he 
then  was — his  reputation,  however,  even  at  this 
time,  was  very  considerable — he  established  a 
newspaper,  which  was  called  the  Rehearsal ;  the 
first  number  was  printed  the  29th  of  September. 
1731.  By  this  effort  he  gave  the  public  a  lasting 
proof  that  he  was  one  of  the  most  elegant  and 
classical  writers  of  his  age.  The  speculations  in 
this  paper  are  ingenious,  and  discover  originality, 
shrewdness,  and  deep  sagacity,  but  this  is  not  so 
remarkable  as  the  warmth,  purity  and  splendour  of 
style  in  which  the  essays  on  various  subjects  from 
his  pen  are  written  ;  they  are  not  disfigured  with 
the  quaintness  which  was  prevalent  at  that  day, 
but  are  bold,  manly,  and  flowing,  abounding  with 
such  graces  of  style,  and  such  profoundness  of 
remark,  as  would  have  done  iionour  to  the  great 
essayists,  his  contemporaries,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Atlantic.  But  he  found  it  necessary  to  relin- 
quish the  labours  of  a  journalist,  as  his  business  in 
his  profession  was  rapidly  increasing,  and  de- 
manded the  greatest  portion  of  his  exertions. 

At  the  bar  he  was  held  in  high  estimation  for 
legal  attainments  ;  he  was  not  contented,  as  many 
were,  with  a  pitiful  accuracy  in  the  practice  of  the 
courts,  for  their  crude  and  unsatisfactory  rules  did 
not  pass  with  him  for  a  system  of  law  ;  but  he 


201 

went  up  to  first  principles,  and  placed  the  science 
upon  the  immutable  foundations  of  truth  and  jus- 
tice. He  had  nothing  mercenary  in  his  disposi- 
tion, but  was  humane  and  liberal  in  his  feelings, 
and  when  his  clients  were  able  to  pay  he  claimed 
bis  honest  dues,  and  was  content  with  them.  His 
manner  of  addressing  a  court  or  jury  is  represented 
as  lofty  and  magisterial,  and  his  opinions  are  said 
to  have  been  given  with  an  air  of  authority  ;  not 
that  he  was  ever  disrespectful  or  contumelious,  but 
his  confidence  arose  from  the  consf-iousness  of 
his  own  strength.  He  never  condescended  to  in- 
struct his  client  in  the  law,  or  point  out  the  course 
he  should  pursue  in  a  cause.  An  anecdote  of  his 
management  of  a  cause,  which  I  have  from  a  vete- 
ran of  the  bar  in  a  neighbouring  state,  is  charac- 
teristic of  Gridley.  ^^  About  the  year  1760,  a 
Mr.  Lombard,  the  settled  minister  of  the  gospel 
in  Grorham,  upon  some  uneasiness  which  arose 
between  him  and  the  people  of  his  charge,  they 
mutually  agreed  to  dissolve  the  connexion,  and 
the  parsonage  being  valuable,  and  under  culture, 
he  was  to  have  its  improvement,  until  tiiey  should 
settle  another  minister,  and  Lombard,  who  vyas  a 
gentleman  of  education,  gave  bond  in  a  [X'ual  sum 
of  two  or  three  thousand  pounds  t«)  Moreton 
and  Phixney,  two  of  the  elders  or  deacons,  that 

26 


202 

upon  their  settling  anotlier  minister  he  would  de- 
liver up  the  parsonage.  In  the  space  of  a  year  or 
two  an  illiterate  man,  whose  name  is  not  recollect- 
ed, preached  among  them,  and  received  a  call  to 
settle  with  them  and  become  their  minister;  none 
of  the  neighbouring  ministers  or  churches  would 
assist  in  his  ordination,  and  thereupon  the  Church 
proeeedod  to  ordain  him  in  the  congregational 
way,  by  the  imposition  of  hands  of  Moreton  and 
Phinney,  according  to  the  Cambridge  platform  ; 
after  which  a  suit  was  brought  upon  the  bond 
against  Lombard  at  the  court  of  common  pleas,  at 
Falmouth;  the  case  was  largely  argued  by  coun- 
sel, and  Mr.  Lombard  was  indulged  to  add  some- 
thing to  what  his  counsel  had  said,  to  show  that 
the  man  they  had  inducted  to  office,  was  not  the 
minister  meant  and  intended  by  the  bond,  and  read 
some  passages  from  a  Greek  Testament  respecting 
the  qualifications  of  a  minister,  the  original  of 
which  he  explained  ;  but  the  jury  found  a  verdict 
for  the  plaintiff.  Lombard  appealed  to  the  su- 
preme court,  then  held  at  York— the  whole  district 
of  Maine  being  then  in  York  county — Mr.  Grid- 
ley  was  then  employed  as  counsel,  and  the  jury 
found  a  verdict  for  the  plaintiff;  after  which 
Gridley  moved  in  arrest  of  judgment — that  there 
was  no  issue  joined,  which  being  apparent  from 


203 

the  papers,  judgment  was  arrested,  a  repleader 
directed,  and  the  cause  eoiitiiined  until  the  next 
term,  when  Gridley  introduced  a  plea  in  bar, 
reciting  the  grant  of  the  township  from  the  Greneral 
Court ;  the  reservation  of  the  parsonage  for  the 
use  of  a  pious,  learned,  orthodox  minister,  &c.  and 
then  averred  that  the  town  had  not  settled  another 
pious,  orthodox,  learned  minister ;  Daniel  Farn- 
HAM,  Esq.  for  the  plaintiff  replied,  that  they  had 
settled  another  pious,  orthodox  minister,  omitting 
learned,  because,  as  was  said,  he  was  unwilling  to 
put  that  in  issue  and  of  tliis  put  themselves  on  the 
country.  To  this  replication  Gridley  demurred 
for  a  departure  in  the  replication,  to  which  there 
was  a  joinder  in  demurrer.  After  a  short  argument, 
the  replicatiou  was  determined  to  be  insufficient, 
and  the  Court  rendered  a  judgment  in  favour  of 
Lombard — who  being  out  of  the  court-house  at  the 
time  of  the  decision,  on  being  told  he  had  obtained 
his  cause,  hasted  into  court,  and  to  his  counsel — 
says  Gridley,  man,  you  have  obtained  your  cause 
— Lombard,  iu  astonishment,  asked  him  how  ? — 
How,  sir  ?  Gridley  replied,  you  can  never  know 
until  you  get  to  heaven.'' 

When  Trowbridge  was  appointed  Judge, 
Gridley  was  made  Attorney-General,  and  lield 
the  office   until    his   death.     Tn    this   capacity   he 


204 

was  sometimes  called  upon  to  defend  opinions  and 
principles  which  were  not  very  congenial  to  his 
feelingjs  as  a  patriot;  but  his  arguments  for  mea- 
sures in  opposition  to  the  popular  opinion  have 
nothing  of  arrogance  nor  timidity  about  them,  but 
are  fair  and  gentlemanly,  and  the  reasoning  of  his 
opponent  was  always  heard  with  great  candour. 
Pride  and  power  are  restive  at  opposition,  but 
Gridley  discharged  his  duty  to  the  crown  without 
exasperating  the  people. 

On  the  question  of  the  legality  of  writs  of  assis- 
tance which  at  that  time  produced  a  great  excite- 
ment, he  was  opposed  by  his  former  pupil  and 
particular  friend,  James  Otis — a  man  whose  fame 
will  be  forever  blended  with  the  glory  of  the  revo- 
lution. He  was  an  advocate  of  high  standing  at 
the  bar,  at  that  period,  and  was  every  day  becom- 
ing more  distinguished.  History^,  and  his  contem- 
poraries have  established  his  reputation  for  erudi- 
tion, taste  and  address,  and  above  all,  for  his 
unrivalled  eloquence  and  its  wonderful  power  over 
both  court  and  jury.  The  discussion  upon  those 
writs  is  said  to  have  been  the  commencement  of 
that  series  of  acts  and  opinions  on  the  part  of  the 
colonies  which  terminated  in  Ihe  revolution  and 
its  consequences.  From  this  time,  which  was 
shortly  before  Gridley's  decease,  there  was  no 


205 

pause  nor  rest  in  the  labours  of  Ons^  for  he  was 
constant,  open  and  bold  in  the  cause  of  his  country. 
Office,  emoluments  and  royal  favour  and  patronage 
sunk  before  his  patriotism,  and  even  considerations 
of  personal  safety  were  disregarded.  His  zeal 
was  a  living  flame,  pure,  intense  and  holy,  which 
warmed  and  enlightened  his  countrymen.  As  he 
marshalled  them  for  resistance  he  taught  them  how 
to  support  and  defend  their  conduct  and  feelings. 
His  fate  was  singular  as  his  path-way  was  lumi- 
nous. For  several  years  before  his  death  his  intel- 
lects were  in  a  state  of  alternate  gloom,  obscurity 
and  hallucination,  until  1783,  when  he  was  re- 
lieved from  pain  and  wretchedness  '^'^and  all  that 
mighty  minds  can  suffer,'^  by  a  flash  of  lightning, 
on  which  was  sent  to  him  the  angel  of  death. 

I  should  have  placed  him  among  my  sketches, 
and  meted  out  to  him  what  justice  I  could,  if  I 
had  not  known  that  his  character  was  in  abler 
hands.  The  public  are  impatient  for  the  life  of 
Otis  from  the  classical  pen  of  Tudor. 

It  was  not  in  his  profession  alone  that  Gridley 
was  conspicuous,  for  he  was  active  and  busy  in 
various  walks  of  life.  As  a  le2;islator  he  was  in- 
defatigable  in  devising  plans  for  the  advancement 
of  knowledge,  and  for  the  peace,  comfort  and  pros- 
perity of  the  Commonwealth,  and   !iis   extensive 


206 

iafoimatiofi  and  well  tried  integrity  gave  him  an 
opportunity  of  doing  much  good.  He  knew  that 
commerce  and  an  acquaintance  with  the  arts  and 
sciences  were  indispensable  to  a  people  who  were 
eager  for  liberty,  distinction  and  prosperity.  To 
advance  the  honour  of  his  country  and  to  give 
facility  to  trade,  he  used  exertions  to  make  the 
merchants  of  Boston  insure  their  merchandise  and 
vessels  at  home,  rather  than  in  England  ;  in  this 
lie  had  much  to  do,  for  the  maritime  law  was  then 
in  its  infancy  in  England.  To  assist  the  mer- 
chants more  readily,  he  became  a  member  of  the 
Marine  Society  in  Boston,  and  was  their  Presi- 
dent for  many  years,  and  in  all  matters  of  commer- 
cial law  his  opinions  were  regarded  as  a  standard 
authority. 

He  who  feels  within  himself  that  power  of 
eenius  which  gives  form  and  comliness  to  what- 
ever may  happen  to  come  under  his  guidance  and 
care,  is  not  readily  confined  to  a  narrow  course  of 
duties,  but  stretches  his  fostering  hand  with  pa- 
rental affection  to  fashion  the  infant  institutions  of 
his  country. 

Knowing  that  all  possessions  are  nothing  with- 
out power,  valour  and  skill  to  defend  them,  and 
believing  in  the  efficiency  of  the  militia  system  for 
protection,  if  citizen  soldiers  were  properly  organ- 


207 

ized  and  instructed^  he  entered  with  enthusiasm 
into  military  aflTairs  and  accepted  the  command  of 
a  regiment.  His  appearance  as  a  parade  officer, 
or  how  successfully  he  discharged  his  duties  on 
the  field  I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain,  for 
most  are  gone  who  could  tell  us,  and  those  who 
may  remain  I  do  not  know. 

Gridley  preferred  offices  of  honour  and  distinc- 
tion to  those  of  profit.  Never  was  there  a  man 
whose  mind  soared  at  such  a  sightless  distance 
above  all  low  and  mercenary  views.  If  tradition 
be  true  and  the  memory  of  the  aged  can  be  relied 
on,  he  was  too  chivalrous  for  his  own  interest  and 
that  of  his  friends  and  family  ;  but  this  error  is  too 
rare  among  men  for  me  to  stop  the  progress  of  this 
narrative  to  denounce  it;  the  example  is  not  se- 
ductive ;  men  frequently  follow  a  worse.  Warm, 
ardent,  proud,  and  generous,  he  never  for  a  mo- 
ment felt  the  spirit  of  rivalry  and  envy,  though 
among  his  students  and  those  who  were  under  his 
patronage,  there  were  many  who  afterwards  held 
the  highest  rank  at  the  bar,  and  several  of  them 
settled  around  him.  In  the  freedom  of  remark 
which  was  indulged  at  that  time,  at  the  bar,  he 
often  declared  that  he  had  reared  two  young  eagles 
who  were  one  day  to  peck  out  his  eyes.  This 
observation  was  probably  made  to  bring  into  notice 


208 

his  friends,  Otis  and  Adams,  and  not  from  jeal- 
ousy. The  envious  and  jealous  seldom  indulge  in 
panegyric. 

The  papers  which  announced  his  death  spoke 
of  his  elevated  views,  his  profound  learning,  and 
above  all,  the  warmth,  purity  and  stedfastness  of 
his  friendships.  He  died  poor,  and  his  executors 
were  about  to  bury  him  as  a  private  gentleman, 
but  the  merchants,  the  bar,  the  judges,  and  the 
masonic  fraternity,  all  conspired  to  see  who  could 
honour  his  memory  the  most.  The  grief  felt  at 
his  loss  readied  all  classes  in  society,  for  he  had 
done  much  good  in  the  community,  and  had  left 
the  world  in  the  fuhiess  and  maturity  of  his  facul- 
ties. He  died  the  10th  of  Sept.  1767— not  far 
from  sixty-two  years  of  age. 

There  is  about  the  mind  of  a  great  man  con- 
scious of  his  superiority,  a  calm,  settled,  dignified 
contempt  for  purse-proud  insolence  and  meanness, 
which  withers  and  blasts  the  little  creatures  who 
have  been  made  bv  a  successful  speculation. — 
AVealth  when  fairly  obtained  and  pn)[>crly  enjoy- 
ed, can  never  fiiil  to  give  its  possessors  standing 
and  influence — it  h  a  passport  through  the  world, 
and  it  ought  to  be,  when  accompanied  with  the 
intelligence  and  deportment  of  a  gentleman  ;  but 
there  is  a  race  of  men,  bloated  by  the  sudden  ac- 


209 

quisition  of  wealth,  who  swaggeringly  demand  the 
homage  of  all ;  from  such,  this  haughty  and  ele- 
vated man  turned  with  a  sneer;  but  it  was  all  the 
bitterness  he  had  in  his  nature,  and  was  gone  as 
aoon  as  the  object  that  produced  it  had  passed  by. 
It  was  fortunate  for  the  masonic  family  that  a 
man  composed  of  such  fine  elements,  should  be- 
come engaged  at  this  early  period  in  the  cause  of 
the  craft ;  his  weight  of  character,  his  zeal  and  his 
ability  to  defend  and  support  whatever  cause  he 
chose  to  espouse,  was  of  great  importance  to  them, 
and  did  much  to  diffuse  masonic  light  and  know- 
ledge. Tiie  order  of  benevolence  had  but  just 
been  established  in  the  new  world  when  he  was 
appointed  its  Grand  Master,  and  he  wore  his 
honours  unsullied  to  the  last  hour  of  his  life.  His 
coadjutor  in  planting  and  cultivating  this  exube- 
rant vine  of  charity,  whose  flowers  are  fragrant  to 
humanity,  and  whose  fruit  all  nations  have  blessed, 
was  the  sage  and  patriotic  Franklin  ;  under  such 
hands  and  by  the  smiles  of  Providence,  its  roots 
struck  deeper  and  its  branches  spread  higher 
every  day,  but  the  most  ardent  hopes  of  these  phi- 
lanthropists have  been  more  than  realized  in  the 
prosperity  of  our  country  and  our  craft.  If  their 
spirits  could  revisit  the  earth  and  take  note  of  what 
is  doing  here,  with  what  joy  would  they  witness 

27 


210 

the  extension  and  progress  of  every  branch  of 
knowledge  among  their  countrymen?  And  with 
what  pleasure  would  they  count  the  numbers  of 
charitable  institutions  which  now  shed  their  bal- 
sams upon  tlie  wounds  of  life  ? 

The  history  of  useful  institutions  are  as  valuable 
to  the  community  as  the  lives  of  eminent  men. 
They  are  intimately  blended.  These  institutions 
arc  like  rivers  whicli  spring  from  remote  fountains 
and  in  their  course  are  enlarged  by  many  tributary 
streams.  It  is  pleasant  to  go  up  to  their  sources. 
I  shall  not  apologize  for  subjoining  to  this  sketch 
of  GrRiDLEY  a  succiuct  accouut  of  the  rise  and  pro- 
gress of  Masonry  in  this  country,  for  he  had  been 
Grand  Master  of  all  North  America  for  more  than 
twelve  years  in  the  early  history  of  Masonry,  and 
by  his  systematic  habits  and  creative  genius,  did 
more  to  establish  those  principles  and  forms  whicli 
have  given  importance  and  stability  to  the  order 
than  any  other  individual  in  America  ;  and  he  de- 
serves to  be  held  in  perpetual  remembrance  by  the 
craft.  1  have  been  assisted  in  preparing  this  brief 
masonic  chronicle  by  one  well  acquainted  with  the 
ancient  records. 

Free  Masonry  was  first  introduced  and  established  in  Ameri- 
ca by  a  number  of  influential  members  of  the  fraternity 
residing;  in  Boston,  under  the  patronage  and  direction  of  the 


211 


Right  Honorable  ami  Most  Worshipful  Anthony,  Lord  Viscount 
Montague,  Grand  Master  ol'  Masons  in  England,  who  in  the 
year  1733  granted  a  commission  to  Henry  Price,  Esq.  appoint- 
ing him  Provincial  Grand  Master  of  New  Ensfland. 

The  Provincial  Grand  Master,  on  receiving  his  commission, 
immediately  summoned  together  several  rcsjiectable  Masons  in 
Boston,  and  organized  a  Provincial  Grand  Lodge  for  the  govern- 
ment of  the  craft,  under  the  title  of"'  St.  John's  Grand  Lodge/' 

A  petition  was  then  presented  to  the  Grand  Lodge  by  seve- 
ral brethren  residing  in  Boston,  praying  to  be  constituted  into 
a  regular  Lodge  ;  that  they  might  be  enabled  to  extend  the 
benefits  of  the  institution  to  those  who  should  wish  to  be 
initiated  into  its  nu'steries.  The  prayer  of  this  petition  was 
granted,  and  Henry  Hope,  Esq.  appointed  and  installed  Master 
of  the  First  Lodge,  or  St.  John's  Lodge.  In  December  of  the 
same  year  James  Gordon  was  installed  Master  of  the  same 
Lodge  ;  and  the  festival  of  St.  John  the  Evangelist  was  cele- 
brated with  Masonic  rites  for  the  tirst  time  in  America. 

In  the  following  year  the  Grand  Master  received  an  addi- 
tional commission,  extending  his  jurisdiction  over  all  North 
America.  In  June  the  same  year  (1734)  Benjamin  Franklin, 
Esq.  of  Philadelphia,  being  on  a  visit  in  Boston,  became  ac- 
quainted with  the  Grand  Master,  who  instructed  him  in  the 
royal  art.  On  his  return  to  Philadelphia,  he  called  together 
the  brethren,  and  petitioned  the  Grand  Master  for  a  charter 
to  hold  a  Lodge.  A  deputation  was  thereupon  sent  to  Phila- 
delphia, a  Lodge  was  constituted,  and  the  Right  Worshipful 
Benjamin  Franiilin,  Esq.  appointed  and  installed  the  first  Mas- 
ter. In  a  somewhat  similar  manner,  Lodges  were  subsequently 
constituted  in  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire,  Charleston,  South 
Carolina,  Antigua,  Nova  Scotia,  Newfoundland,  Newport  and 
Providence  in  Rhode  Island,  Annapolis  in  Maryland,  Newhaven, 
New  London  and  Middletown  in  Connecticut ;  all  of  them  the 
first  masonic  institutions  established  in  their  respective  places, 
and  formed  of  the  most  conspicuous  and  respectable  charac- 
ters in  civil  society.  Thus  Free  Masonry  was  extended  over 
the  country,  and  founik'd  on  a  permanent  basis,  under  the  au- 


212 


thority,  and  by  the  labour  and  influence  of  St.  John's  Grand 
Lodge,  in  Boston. 

The  attention  of  the  public  was  universally  excited  towards 
the  institution,  and  though  shrouded  under  a  veil  of  mystery, 
it  commanded  general  respect;  in  consequence  of  the  elevated 
rank,  and  exemplary  character  of  those  who  took  an  active 
part  in  its  support. 

Henry  Price,  Esq.  presided  over  the  Grand  Lodge  of  North 
America,  or  St.  John's  Grand  Lodge,  until  the  year  1737, 
when  he  resigned  his  office,  and  was  succeeded  by  Robert 
Tomlinson,  Esq.  who  continued  in  office  until  his  death ;  he 
was  succeeded  by  Thomas  Oxnard,  Esq.  who  received  his 
commission  from  England  in  the  year  1744,  and  was  installed 
Grand  Master  in  ample  form  in  March  of  the  same  year.  At 
his  installation  the  Rev.  Charles  Brockwell  preached  the  first 
Masonic  sermon  that  was  preached  in  America,  at  Christ's 
Church,  December  27,  1749.  He  sustained  the  office  of 
Grand  Master  until  his  death,  (June  1754)  and  discharged  the 
duties  of  it  with  great  honour  to  himself  and  satisfaction  to  the 
fraternity.  The  estimation  in  which  he  was  held  was  demon- 
strated by  the  great  respect  paid  to  his  memory.  "  His  corpse 
was  attended  to  the  grave  by  a  numerous  train  of  relations 
and  friends,  and  by  the  Society  of  Free  and  Accepted  Masons, 
dressed  in  black,  and  clothed  with  white  aprons  and  gloves. 
The  whole  attendance  was  conducted  through  a  vast  number 
of  spectators,  with  great  order  and  decency."  Thomas  Ox- 
nard, Esq.  was  a  wealthy  and  eminent  merchant,  and  highly 
esteemed  and  respected  by  his  fellow  citizens.  On  the  de- 
cease of  the  Grand  Master  the  Grand  Lodge  elected  Jeremy 
Gridley,  Esq.  counsellor  at  law,  their  Grand  Master,  and  peti- 
tioned the  Grand  Master  of  England  to  grant  him  a  commis- 
sion, and  to  limit  the  same  to  three  years  continuance,  unless 
the  Grand  Lodge  should  see  fit  to  extend  it  to  a  longer  period. 
It  is  believed  this  is  the  first  attempt  to  limit  the  duration  of  a 
Grand  Master's  authority  recorded  in  the  history  of  Masonry. 

Agreeably  to  the  petition  of  the  Grand  Lodge,  Jeremy  Grid- 
ley,  Esq.  received  a  commission  from  the  Grand  Master  of 


213 

England,  in  1755,  appointing  him  Provincial  Grand  Master  of 
North  America  ;  but  without  limitation  in  its  duration. 

At  a  grand  feast  prepared  for  the  occasion,  October  1st, 
1765,  the  Right  Worshipful  Jeremy  Gridley,  Esq.  was  installed 
in  ample  form.  Grand  Master  Gridley  had  great  difficulties 
to  encounter  in  the  discharge  of  his  official  duties,  which  grew 
out  of  disputes  among  the  fraternity  in  Great  Britain,  com- 
mencing in  the  year  1736,  when  the  Earl  of  Crawford  was 
Grand  Master  of  England.  He  offended  the  Grand  Lodge  held 
in  the  city  of  York,  by  granting  deputations  which  were 
thought  to  encroach  on  the  prerogatives  of  the  York  Masons. 
The  friendly  intercourse  which  had  heretofore  existed  among 
the  fraternity  throughout  the  kingdom  was  stopped,  and  the 
York  Masons,  from  that  moment,  considered  their  interests  as 
distinct  from  those  of  the  Masons  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
Grand  Lodge  of  England.  The  Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland  and 
others  sided  with  the  York  Masons,  and  styled  the  Grand 
Lodge  of  England,  and  those  under  its  jurisdiction,  Modern 
Masons,  from  whence  arose  disgraceful  dissensions  and  ani- 
mosities among  the  fraternity.  At  what  period  the  difference 
commenced  in  some  unessential  ceremonies,  we  cannot  deter- 
mine ;  but  we  are  authorized  by  the  history  of  the  craft  to 
state,  that  if  this  difference  existed  previously  to  the  schism 
we  have  adverted  to,  it  was  not  considered  of  sufficient  impor- 
tance to  prevent  the  friendly  intercourse  of  visiting  and  mutu- 
ally assisting  each  other. 

The  spirit  arising  from  this  contention  rapidly  extended 
itself  over  the  old  world,  and  soon  after  made  its  appearance 
in  America.  The  Grand  Lodge  then  established  in  this  coun- 
try, with  jurisdiction  over  all  North  America,  as  it  emanated 
from  the  Grand  Lodge  of  England,  was  styled  a  Lodge  of  Mo- 
dern Masons,  by  those  who  had  imbibed  the  prejudices  of  the 
York  Masons.  A  few  years  after  the  schism  in  Great  Britain,  a 
Scotch  regiment,  in  which  there  was  a  travelling  Lodge,  held 
under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  Scotland,  being  in 
Boston,  several  gentlemen  were  made  Masons  by  them,  and 
after  the  departure  of  the  regiment  they  proceeded  to  form  a 


214 


Lodge  and  make  Masons,  without  being  authorized  and  consti- 
tuted by  any  Grand  Lodge.  St.  John's  Grand  Lodge  considered 
this  conduct  highly  irregular  and  derogatory  to  the  character  of 
the  fraternity.  The  members  of  this  association  were  denounc- 
ed as  irregular  Masons,  and  the  Lodges  were  directed  not  to 
receive  them  as  visitors,  or  recognize  them  in  any  way  as  Ma- 
sons. Finding  themselves  thus  set  apart  from  all  the  fraternit}' 
in  America,  they  petitioned  the  Grand  Master  of  Scotland  for  a 
charter.  Through  the  agency  of  a  brother,  James  Logan,  who 
had  been  a  Master  of  a  Lodge  in  Scotland,  and  a  member  of  the 
Grand  Lodge,  they  obtained  a  charter,  under  the  denomination 
of  St.  Andrew's  Lodge,  in  1752,  from  liOrd  .\berdour,  then 
Grand  Master  of  Scotland.  After  obtaining  this  charter,  and 
being,  as  they  considered,  regularly  constituted,  they  present- 
ed a  petition  to  the  St.  John's  Grand  Lodge,  praying  that  they 
might  be  recognized  as  regular  Masons,  and  reciprocate  visits 
with  the  Lodges  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Grand  Lodge, 
but  expressed  no  disposition  to  submit  to  their  jurisdiction  and 
authorit}-.  The  Grand  Lodge  considered  the  charter,  consti- 
tuting St.  Andrew's  Lodge,  as  an  encroachment  on  their  pre- 
rogatives. The  Grand  Master  accordingly  issued  his  man- 
date forbidding  all  intercourse  with  the  members  of  St.  x\n- 
drew's  Lodge,  unless  they  should  submit  to  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  Grand  Lodge. 

This  measure  produced  re-action  in  the  members  of  St.  An- 
drew's Lodge,  and  led  them  to  make  an  eflbrt  to  extend  their 
authority  and  influence,  and  after  various  struggles  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  authority  of  the  Grand  Lodge,  and,  after  rei)eat- 
ed  attempts  to  effect  an  intercourse  on  their  own  terms  during 
the  administration  of  Grand  Master  Grujley,  they  petitioned 
the  Grand  Master  of  Scotland  to  grant  a  commission  to  Dr. 
Joseph  Warren,  appointing  him  Provincial  Grand  Master  of 
Ancient  Masons,  and  with  the  assistance  of  three  travelling 
Lodges,  held  in  the  British  army,  then  stationed  in  Boston, 
they  effected  their  purpose. 

This  object,  however,  was  not  attained  until  after  the  de- 
cease of  Grand   Master  Gridley,  which  event  took  place  on 


215 

the  19th  day  of  September,  1767.  The  high  estimation  ia 
which  he  was  held  by  the  Fraternity,  and  by  the  public  at 
large,  is  demonstrated  by  the  following  extract  from  the  an- 
cient records  of  the  Grand  Lodge. 

'•^  Boston^  September  14<//,  1767. 

'•  On  Thursday  evening  last,  at  1 1  o'clock,  departed  this 
life  the  Right  Worshipful  Jkremv  Gridley,  Esq-.  Grand  Master 
of  Masons  over  all  North  America,  Attorney-General  for  the 
Province  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  a  member  of  the  Great  and 
General  Court  of  said  Province,  and  a  Justice  throughout  the 
same,  Colonel  of  the  first  regiment  of  militia,  and  President  of 
the  Marine  Society,  &c. 

"  The  funeral  was  attended  on  Saturday  last,  with  the  re- 
spect due  to  his  memory,  by  the  members  of  his  Majesty's 
Council,  and  the  Judges  of  the  Supreme  Court  in  town,  the 
gentlemen  of  the  bar,  the  Brethren  of  the  Ancient  and  Hon- 
ourable Society  of  Free  and  Accepted  Masons,  the  officers  of 
the  Regiment,  the  members  of  the  Marine  Society,  and  a 
gi'eat  number  of  the  gentlemen  of  the  town. 

"  Strength  of  understanding,  clearness  of  apprehension,  and 
solidity  of  judgment  were  cultivated  in  him  by  a  liberal  edu- 
cation and  close  thinking.  His  extensive  acquaintance  with 
classical,  and  almost  every  other  part  of  literature,  gave  him 
the  first  rank  among  men  of  learning.  His  thorough  know- 
ledge of  the  Civil  and  Common  Law,  which  he  had  studied  as 
a  science,  founded  in  the  principles  of  government  and  the 
nature  of  man,  justly  placed  him  at  the  head  of  his  pro- 
fession. His  tender  feelings  relative  to  his  natural  and  civil 
ties — his  exquisite  sensibility,  and  generous  effusion  of  soul 
for  his  friends,  were  proofs  that  his  heart  was  good,  as  his 
head  was  sound,  and  well  qualified  him  to  preside  over  that 
ancient  Society,  whose  benevolent  constitutions  do  honour  to 
mankind.  He  sustained  the  painful  attacks  oJ'  death  with  a 
philosophical  calmness  and  fortitude,  that  resulted  from  the 
steady  principles  of  his  religion,  fie  died  in  the  G2d  year  of 
his  age." 


216 

WRITTEN    EXTEMPORE    ON    THE   DEATH   OF    THE    LATE    JeRF.MY 

Gridley,  Esq.  barrister  at  law. 

OF  parts  and  learning,  wit  and  worth  possessed, 
Gridley  shone  forth  conspicuous  o'er  the  rest ; 
In  native  powers  robust,  and  smit  with  fame, 
The  genius  brighten'd,  and  the  spark  took  flame ; 
Nature  and  science  wove  the  laurel  crown, 
Ambitious  each,  alike  confer'd  renown. 
High  in  the  dignity  and  strength  of  thought, 
The  maze  of  knowledge  sedulous  he  sought, 
With  mind  superior  studied  and  retain'd, 
And  life  and  property  by  law  sustained. 
Generous  and  free  his  liberal  hand  he  spread, 
Th'  oppress'd  reliev'd,  and  for  the  needy  plead  ; 
Awake  to  friendship,  with  the  ties  of  blood. 
His  heart  expanded,  and  his  soul  o'erflow'd, 
Social  in  converse,  in  the  senate  brave. 
Gay  e'en  with  dignity,  with  wisdom  grave  ; 
Long  to  his  country  and  to  courts  endear'd, 
The  judges  honourd,  and  the  bar  rever'd. 
Rest,  peaceful  shade  !  innoxious  as  thy  walk. 
May  slander  babble,  and  may  censure  talk, 
Ne'er  on  thy  mem'ry  envy  cast  a  blot. 
But  human  frailties  in  thy  worth  forgot. 

After  the  death  of  Grand  Master  Gridley,  the  past  Grand 
Master,  Henry  Price,  Esq.  presided  over  the  Grand  Lodge, 
and  a  petition  was  sent  to  England  by  the  Grand  Lodge,  pray- 
ing that  John  Rowe,  Esq.  might  be  appointed  Grand  IMaster 
of  North  America,  and  tbey  again  requested  a  limitation  of  the 
authority  of  the  Grand  Master  to  the  term  of  three  years, 
unless  the  Grand  Lodge  should  see  fit  to  extend  the  duration  of 
it ;  but  so  far  was  this  principle  from  being  recognized,  that  it 
appears  from  the  commission  it  was  granted,  not  in  consequence 
of  the  election  of  the  Grand  Lodge,  but  from  the  recommenda- 
tion of  Past  Grand  Master  Price,  and  for  an  unlimited  time. 


217 


These  facts  are  stated  to  shew  the  manner  in  which  masonic 
institutions  were  organized  at  that  time,  and  that  the  present 
forms  of  masonic  government  in  this  country  are  innovations 
in  the  system,  and  of  American  origin.  John  Rowe,  Esq.  was 
installed  Grand  Master,  November  23,  1768,  after  having  re- 
ceived his  commission  from  his  Grace  Henry  Somerset,  Duke 
of  Beaufort,  &ic.  &.c.  Grand  Master  of  England. 

These  two  Grand  Lodges  were  supported  by  the  most  dis- 
tinguished men  in  the  country,  and  flourished  under  the  care 
of  highly  respectable  masters  until  the  war  of  1775  suspended 
most  masonic  intercourse  for  many  years.  After  the  peace, 
when  all  things  had  assumed  a  quiet  state,  the  adherents  of 
the  two  Grand  Lodges  thought  it  wise  and  proper  to  unite 
themselves,  and  no  longer  to  hear  the  discordant  sounds — I 
am  of  Apollos,  or,  I  am  of  Cephas — but  to  make  the  order  of 
benevolence  one  and  indivisible — that  harmony  and  charity 
might  abound.  This  was  effected  in  the  year  1792,  and  the 
former  distinctions  and  parties  are  remembered  no  more. 


28 


SEWALL. 


SAMUEL  SEWALL,  late  chief  justice  of 
tbe  CoramoQweaUh  of  Massachusetts,  was  born  at 
Boston,  in  December  1757.  He  was  descended 
from  that  Mr.  Sewall  who  came  to  this  country 
at  an  early  period  of  our  history,  and  settled  at 
Newbury,  in  the  county  of  Essex.  His  family, 
from  its  numerous  branches,  has  produced  many 
distinguished  lawyers,  judges  and  statesmen. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  gave  early  proofs  of 
talents,  industry,  and  firmness  of  character.  On 
leaving  Harvard  College,  in  1777,  he  entered  the 
office  of  Francis  Dana,  Esq.  of  Cambridge,  after- 
wards chief  justice  of  the  Commonwealth,  then  a 
distinguished  lawyer,  who  had  been  in  full  prac- 
tice at  that  place. 

The  war  was  at  that  time  raging,  and  great 
fears  were  entertained  of  the  ultimate  success  of 
the  struggle  for  independence,  and  of  course,  for 
the  future  destinies  of  the  country.  From  some 
letters  he  wrote  at  that  period,  it  is  fully  seen  how 
much  he  was  distressed  for  his  country's  weal ; 
but  he  endeavoured,  as  much  as  possible,  to  con- 


220 

ceal  his  fears  and  to  dispel  his  anxieties  by  a  close 
application  to  his  books. 

He  began  the  study  of  the  law,  considering  it  a 
science,  and  laboured  to  make  himself  master  of  its 
principles.  There  was  no  necessity  for  haste  in 
his  course,  and  he  went  to  work  with  extensive 
views,  and  a  settled  determination  first  to  under- 
stand the  philosophical  structure  of  the  common 
law  ;  to  separate  that  which  grew  from  local  feel- 
ings and  interests,  national  necessities  and  maxims 
of  common  sense,  and  to  combine  for  application 
and  use,  when  he  should  come  to  the  bar,  all  that 
was  excellent  and  perfect  in  the  system.  At  this 
time  the  laws  of  nations  were  much  discussed, 
and  every  young  man  of  talents,  in  the  profession 
of  the  law,  was  anxious  to  be  acquainted  with  the 
principles  of  this  moral  and  political  code.  In- 
stead of  confining  himself  to  the  few  standard 
authors  on  the  laws  of  nations,  such  as  Puffen- 
dorft*,  Vattel  and  others,  who  had  then  written  on 
this  subject,  he  made  himself  master  of  the  civil 
law,  and  the  ecclesiastical  canons,  the  general 
polity  o  diiferent  ages  and  nations  of  the  world, 
and  from  this  cause  more  than  any  other,  he  be- 
came eminent  as  a  commercial  lawyer. 

Naturally  of  a  delicate  and  ardent  temperament 
he  could  not  entirely  lose  his  fears  for  his  future 


221 

prospects^,  but  even  iti  his  most  assiduous  pursuits 
the  obstacles  to  distinction  and  success  appeared 
to  him  numerous  and  formidable.  He  imagined,  at 
times,  that  he  wanted  voice,  courage,  readiness 
and  many  other  qualifications  necessary  to  make  a 
great  advocate.  On  this  subject  he  held  a  concs- 
pondence  with  several  of  his  learned  and  expe- 
rienced friends,  who,  knowing  the  powers  of  his 
mind,  fully  and  explicitly  expressed  to  him  the 
certainty  they  felt  of  his  being  equal  to  any  task 
in  his  profession  ;  but  this  sincere,  yet  flattering 
opinion  of  his  talents  did  not  at  all  times  keep  him 
from  the  most  gloomy  forebodings. 

I  have  procured  the  copies  of  several  letters 
written  to  him,  while  a  student  at  law,  by  his  ma- 
ternal grand-father,  Edmund  Quincy,  Esq.  a  gen- 
tleman of  classical  education,  and  much  esteemed 
for  his  piety,  learning,  discrimination  and  sound 
sense  in  the  business  of  life. 

These  copies  were  taken  from  a  book  kept  by 
Mr.  QuiNCY,  and  came  to  my  hands  from  Mrs. 
DoNNisoN,  his  grand-daughter.  The  book  was  in 
possession  of  her  father,  and  she  took  some  of  his 
papers  at  his  decease,  and  among  others  this. 
These  letters  give  a  just  view  of  t!ie  times  in 
which  they  were  written,  and  discover  an  extensive 
knowledge  of  the  character  and  duties  of  a  lawyer. 


222 

Sewall's  connexion  with  such  people,  and  the 
early  bias  such  connexions  gave  to  his  mind,  can 
be  traced  in  every  situation  in  which  he  was  after- 
wards placed.  This  only  adds  another  proof  to 
the  many  on  record  of  the  advantages  to  be  deriv- 
ed from  the  counsel  and  protection  of  the  wise  and 
good,  at  our  entrance  into  busy  and  active  life. 

Having  finished  his  course  of  reading  with  judge 
DanAj  he  settled  in  the  town  of  Marblehead,  in  the 
county  of  Essex.  This  is  a  commercial  county, 
having  an  extensive  seaboard,  and  containing 
many  thriving  maritime  towns. 

As  soon  as  business  revived  after  the  war,  the 
active  people  in  Essex  were  early  engaged  in  ex- 
tensive trade.  Out  of  this  commerce  grew  nume- 
rous contracts,  which  furnished  new  questions,  and 
brought  into  use  and  notice  the  attainments  of 
Sewall  as  a  commercial  lawyer,  and  gave  him 
opportunities  to  display  to  advantage  the  acuteness 
and  strength  of  his  intellect.  In  all  these  discus- 
sions on  maritime  aifairs,  he  was  so  conspicuous 
and  learned,  that  the  most  intelligent  classes  of 
merchants  were  anxious  that  he  should  represent 
their  interests  in  Congress,  and  after  much  entreaty 
he  was  prevailed  upon  to  acee|)t  a  seat  in  that  body. 
Although  there  is  no  memorable  specimen  of  his 
eloquence  or  ability  on  record  in  their  annals,  yet 


223 

those  who  were  his  colleagues  at  that  time,  and 
other  members  of  Congress,  acknowledged  him  as 
the  first  commercial  lawyer  among  them.  He  was 
chosen  to  represent  his  district,  first  in  the  year 
1797,  and  was  elected  the  second  time.  He  had 
previously  been  in  our  state  legislature,  where  he 
was  distinguished  for  doing  good,  and  still  more 
so,  for  preventing  evil.  The  people  were  running 
wild  upon  the  subject  of  making  laws — Every 
thing  was  to  be  cheap,  easy  and  familiar.  The 
law  was  to  be  brought  to  every  man's  comprehen- 
sion ;  all  technicalities  were  to  be  removed,  and 
the  profession  proscribed  as  useless.  The  mild-  , 
ness  and  modesty  united  with  the  force  of  argu-  ■ 
ment  that  he  exhibited  on  these  subjects,  opened 
the  eyes  of  many  honest  and  fair  minded  men, 
who  had  been  deluded  by  false  and  specious  argu- 
ments, and  they  were  brought  to  think  and  act 
rightly  by  the  information  which  he  gave,  and  the 
pains  that  he  bestowed  on  the  questions  as  they 
arose. 

In  the  year  1800  he  was  put  on  the  bench  of  the 
Supreme  Judicial  Court  of  this  Commonwealth. 
This  appointment  gave  great  pleasure  to  the  pro- 
fession and  to  all  commercial  men.  He  continued 
associate  judge  until  judge  Parsons  died,  in 
1813,  when  he  was  raised  to   the  seat  of  chief 


224 

justice,  which  office  he  filled  with  honour  to  him- 
self and  to  the  Commonwealth  until  the  time  of 
his  descease. 

Judge  Sewall  was  a  high-minded  and  proud- 
spirited man,  of  quick  feelings  and  correct  princi- 
ples. He  had  much  of  that  readiness  of  percep- 
tion, warmth  of  soul  and  richness  of  imagination, 
which,  when  combined  with  strong  powers  of  rea- 
soning, constitute  genius.  In  his  performances  as 
an  advocate  he  was  always  learned  and  ingenious, 
and  sometimes  so  impressive  and  eloquent  as  not 
only  to  convince  but  to  charm  his  audience.  He 
never  studied  to  be  eloquent,  but  when  a  subject 
interested  him  he  was  eloquent  without  knowing 
it,  or  without  making  the  least  effort  to  be  impres- 
sive or  pathetic. 

As  a  judge  he  was  upright,  firm,  grave  and  im- 
partial, always  rising  with  his  subject,  and  he 
showed  if  it  were  weighty^  that  he  never  felt  it  to 
be  burthensome,  as  some  little  minds  do,  when 
they  attempt  what  is  beyond  their  strength.  His 
memory  was  tenacious,  his  method  admirable,  and 
his  patience  in  labour  exemplary.  He  was  modest, 
but  never  shrunk  from  the  discharge  of  his  duty, 
from  fear  of  any  person  or  event.  There  are  times 
in  the  professional  course  of  a  judge,  in  which 
proud  men  make  their  claims  and  exactions  with  a 


225 

pertinacity  which  is  not  easily  put  down,  and  with 
a  boldness,  and  sometimes  an  impudence,  which 
cannot  be  easily  resisted,  but  he  knew  his  duty 
and  maintained  his  rights  against  every  attempt, 
and  from  every  quarter,  however  mighty  his  as- 
sailant. 

In  his  courtesy  to  the  bar  he  was  always  the 
gentleman,  and  did  every  thing  that  was  proper  in 
his  office  to  promote  justice,  harmony  and  good 
fellowship  among  them.  If  he  had  a  fault  as  a 
judge  it  was  sometimes  permitting  his  feelings  to 
enter  into  a  cause,  as  he  did,  whenever  hidiLw  op- 
pression and  injustice  running  a  successfui%ourse 
against  unsuspecting  honesty  and  credulityM  It 
will  not  be  denied  that  at  moments  he  lost  the  cW^- 
ness  and  composure  of  the  magistrate  in  the  virtu- 
ous indignatioiLof  the  man.  It  is  extremely  diffi- 
cult for  a  man  of  feeling,  to  sit  calmly  and  patiently 
and  witness  the  attacks  of  heartlessuess  and  fraud 
upon  thoughtless  and  harmless  ignorance- and  im- 
becility. In  such  cases  he  was  easily  disturbed 
and  grew  restive,  but  he  was  fully  sensible  of  this 
disposition,  and  did  every  thing  in  his  power  to 
discipline  his  feelings  and  correct  this  propensity. 
In  his  charges  to  the  jury  he  was  luminous,  fair, 
full  and  satisfactory,  and  they  retired  with  a  clear 
view  of  their  duties,  and  a  proper  disposition  to 

29 


226 

discharge  them,  for  he  always  was  careful  to  urge 
them  to  look  at  the  subject  before  them  without 
prejudice  or  partiality. 

In  his  place  of  residence,  he  made  great  exer- 
tions to  keep  up  a  spirit  of  sociability  and  good 
fellowship,  and  entered  into  rational  amusements 
with  great  cheerfulness. 

I  have  known  him  after  the  labours  of  the  day 
on  the  bench,  in  Salem,  ride  to  Marblehead  and 
officiate  as  master  of  ceremonies  at  the  assembly, 
preserving  the  most  perfect  order  and  di£fusing  de- 
light vl^Qg  the  gay,  spirited  and  beautiful  votaries 
of  thf^  dance.  His  presence  gave  dignity  to  the 
amftsement,  for  there  is  nothing  which  so  tempers 
^M  regulates  the  exuberance  of  youthful  spirits  as 
to  find  those  mingling  with  them  whose  characters 
and  standing  in  society,  sanction  pleasure  or  busi- 
ness by  participating  in  it. 
i:r  Youth  shrinks  from  old  age  and  looks  forward 
to  grey^airs  with  dismay,  because  we  so  often  see 
old  age  churlish  and  unwilling  to  enjoy  or  to  pro- 
mote enjoyment.  Life  is  short  and  every  duty 
should  be  discharged  with  alacrity,  and  every 
rational  delight  seized  without  delav.  That  we 
should  look  on  the  bounties  of  Providence  with  a 
disposition  to  enjoy,  is  demanded  by  nature,  and 
approved  by  reason  and  religion.     An  assembly 


227 

io  a  town  sufficiently  large  to  form  a  circle  of  peo- 
ple of  intelligence  and  respectability,  is,  when  well 
regulated,  a  high  school  for  manners,  and  with 
manners  are  intimately  blended  moral  and  social 
duties. 

There  are  stiff  and  grave  men  who  are  offended 
that  the  dignity  of  the  judge  should  ever  be  relax- 
ed in  the  social  amenity  of  the  gentleman. 

This  prudery,  which  was  current  a  few  years 
since,  is  rapidly  diminishing  among  us,  and  those 
precise  rules  of  respect  and  form,  behind  which 
grave  and  solemn  ignorance  and  cautious  imbecili- 
ty entrench  themselves,  are  of  late  broken  down. 
True  dignity  is  now  supported  by  purity  of  prin- 
ciple  and  strength  of  mind.  The  age  of  grave  ^d 
reverend  ignorance  is  over,  and  the  imposition  of 
gravity  of  face,  of  dignity  of  wig,  and  of  conventi- 
cle tones  is  gone  forever. 

The  spirit  of  enthusiasm  which  often  animated 
Sewall's  breast,  was  conveyed  by  his  earnest 
and  eloquent  manner  to  others.  When  his  feel- 
ings, as  they  sometimes  did,  mingled  strongly  with 
his  reasonings,  all  the  electricity  of  his  soul  shot 
along  the  veins  of  every  juryman  upon  the  seat. 
There  are  numerous  instances  of  his  power  over  a 
jury,  within  the  recollection  of  contemporaries, 
one  of  which  is  well  remembered. 


228 

1q  the  year  1807,  a  young  lady  of  Haverhill,  in 
the  county  of  Essex,  was  riding  in  a  chaise  in  a 
narrow  road,  and  meeting  an  ox  team,  whose 
driver  was  carelessly  sitting  on  the  spire  of  the 
waggon,  being  apprehensive  of  danger,  she  turned 
out  of  the  path  as  far  as  she  could  and  called  on 
the  waggoner  to  be  careful,  but  the  churl,  neither 
regarding  her  situation  nor  her  sex,  in  the  least, 
drove  straightway  on,  without  moving  to  the  right 
hand  or  to  the  left,  and  overset  the  chaise,  and 
w  ith  other  injuries,  broke  the  young  lady's  arm. 
By  the  advice  of  her  friends  she  commenced  a  suit 
against  hira  for  damages,  but  before  the  action 
came  on  for  trial  she  was  married,  and  the  action 
of*eourse  nonsuited,  there  being  no  legal  plaintiff. 
The  defendant,  delighted  at  his  accidental  advan- 
tage, took  out  an  execution  for  costs  and  had  it 
served  without  delay  or  delicacy.  The  husband 
and  wife  then  joined  in  an  action  for  the  same  in- 
jury.  Sewall  sat  in  the  cause  on  trial.  The 
defendant's  counsel  among  other  things  urged,  that 
an  ox  team,  being  slow  and  heavy,  had  in  law, 
and  certainly  in  reason,  a  better  right  to  the  mid- 
dle of  the  road  than  so  light  a  carriage  as  a  chaise, 
and  that  she  should  have  been  on  the  look  out 
and  found  a  place  to  have  given  the  teamster  the 
road.    Tiie  judge  during  the  whole  defence  labour- 


229 

ed  with  considerable  effort  to  restrain  his  feelings. 
The  plaintiff's  reply  occupied  but  a  few  moments^ 
but  the  whole  atrocity  of  the  case  was  urged  with 
great  force  and  precision. 

When  the  arguments  were  closed  the  judge  rose 
with  a  forced  calmness,  but  as  he  went  on  relating 
the  facts  and  giving  the  law  of  the  highway,  he 
gradually  grew  warm,  pathetic  and  eloquent.  He 
stated  to  the  jury  that  the  whole  impression  of  ex- 
clusive privileges  was  wrong.  That  no  waggon, 
stage,  or  other  vehicle,  no  matter  by  whom  owned 
or  driven,  had  any  exclusive  rights  in  our  common 
highway,  and  that  a  handcart-man  had  a  claim  to 
half  of  the  road  if  he  wanted  it  in  dragging  his  cart. 
He  told  the  jury  that  there  were  no  prerogatives  of 
this  sort  in  our  free  country,  and  no  one  should  take 
airs  of  superiority.  The  road  was  made  by  a  tax 
on  the  people,  and  every  traveller  had  equal  rights. 
Neither  the  government  of  the  Commonwealth  nor 
the  United  States  had  here  any  highway.  The  main 
roads  belonged  to  the  several  counties,  towns  and  to 
private  and  public  incorporations  under  restrictions. 
He  dwelt  upon  the  negligence  of  the  teamster,  and 
his  want  of  feeling ;  and  the  dismay,  injury  and 
distress  of  the  female  with  her  fractured  limb,  were 
so  minutely  pictured  to  the  jury  that  the  whole 
scene  rose  to  view  and  sunk  as  deeply  upon  their 


230 

minds  as  if  described  by  the  exact,  poetic,  aud 
feeling  pen  of  Cowper.  The  jury  were  sensible 
men,  most  of  them  husbands  and  fathers,  they 
caught  the  spirit  of  a  virtuous  resentment  against 
such  brutal  conduct,  and  after  consulting  a  few 
minutes,  brought  in  a  verdict  to  the  extent  of  dam- 
age stated  in  the  writ.  The  report  of  the  trial  soon 
spread  abroad,  and  the  stage  drivers,  waggoners, 
and  indeed  the  whole  population  of  Essex,  were 
able  to  repeat  much  of  the  judge's  charge,  and 
their  conduct  was  regulated  according  to  the  rules 
he  gave  to  the  jury.  The  good  effects  of  that  trial, 
have  been  felt  in  that  county  until  this  time.  The 
traveller  there  finds  an  accommodating  disposition, 
but  much  of  this  politeness  was  originally  produced 
by  this  trial.  In  all  matters  of  honour  judge 
Sewall  supported  the  side  of  good  feelings,  with 
the  spirit  of  chivalry.  These  things  are  mention- 
ed to  show  his  disposition,  and  not  as  proofs  of 
genius  or  ability  in  his  office,  though  they  might 
be  adduced  as  evidence  of  a  delicate  and  elevated 
mind. 

When  Parsons  died,  Sewall  was  made  chief 
justice,  and  the  appointment  gave  entire  satisfac- 
tion, but  such  was  his  native  and  unconquerable 
modesty,  that  he  was  constantly  contemplating  the 
great  talents  of  his  predecessor,  and  thinking  how 


281 

hard  it  was  for  any  one  to  fill  his  place,  without 
even  glancing  in  his  mind,  at  his  own  rare  qualift'- 
cations  for  the  office.  Sewall  seemed  at  all  times 
to  feel  that,  like  Hercules,  he  was  bearing  up  with 
strained  sinews,  and  with  extraordinary  exertion  a 
weight  which  the  massy  and  towering  frame  of 
Atlas  sustained  as  a  natural  burthen. 

Sewall  was  not  only  a  profound  judge,  but  a 
popular  chief  justice  in  every  part  of  the  Common- 
wealth. His  associates  in  office  were  anxious  for 
his  health,  and  did  all  they  could  to  diminish  his 
labours,  and  to  continue  his  usefulness,  but  his 
constitution  was  impaired  by  great  efforts  in  the 
discharge  of  his  duties,  and  he  died  suddenly  at 
Wiscasset,  when  on  a  circuit,  on  the  eighth  day 
of  June,  1814.  The  gentlemen  of  the  bar  as  a 
tribute  of  respect  and  affection,  erected  at  that 
place  a  monument  to  his  memory. 


HOVEY. 


"  Hard  is  the  scholar's  lot,  condemned  to  sail, 
Unpatronised  o'er  life's  tempestuous  wave  ; 
Clouds  blind  his  sight,  nor  blows  a  friendly  g-ale, 
To  waft  him  to  one  port — except  the  grave." 

Penrose. 

I  WOULD  advise  those,  who  love  to  let  their 
attention  dwell  only  on  the  great  and  successful ; 
those  who  can  see  nothing  worthy  of  notice  in  the 
life  of  one  who  was  not  the  favourite  of  fortune, 
and  whose  name  is  not  inscribed  on  the  rolls  of 
fame,  to  turn  at  once  from  the  pages  which  contain 
a  sketch  of  the  character  and  life  of  Joseph  Hovey. 
If  he  proceed  he  will  find  nothing  here  but  the 
"short  and  simple  annals"  of  a  man  on  whom  no 
"golden  shower  fell,"  and  who  never  heard  a 
hosanna  from  the  public  voice.  Yet  it  is  pleasant 
to  some  minds  to  go  from  the  high  places  of  public 
life,  and  look  in  solitude  and  retirement,  for  vir- 
tues, talents  and  acquirements,  that  have  shrunk 
from  the  scrutinizing  gaze  of  the  world.  There  is 
some  bravery  in  venturing  to  speak  of  those  who 

30 


234 

are  unknown  to  most,  and  some  magnanimity  ia 
describing  those  wlio  never  dreamed  that  the  world 
would  even  devote  to  them  a  grave-stone,  or  make 
for  them  an  epitaph.  To  such  minds  this  me- 
morial will  be  acceptable,  and  for  them  it  was 
written. 

Joseph  Hovey  was  born  in  Boxford,  in  the 
county  of  Essex,  in  the  year  1775.  His  family 
had  been  of  note  in  that  town,  from  its  earliest  set- 
tlement. The  father  of  Joseph  was  a  respectable 
yeoman,  but  not  affluent ;  he  had  a  large  family  to 
support,  which  he  brought  up  in  competency  and 
respectability.  Several  of  his  sons  were  instruct- 
ed in  some  good  mechanical  trade  ;  Joseph  was 
taught  that  of  a  clock  and  watch  maker,  but  as  he 
was  from  his  boyish  days  very  fond  of  reading,  he 
acquired  a  taste  for  classical  knowledge,  and  the 
first  use  that  he  made  of  his  freedom  from  parental 
authority,  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  was  to  set 
about  devising  some  means  to  obtain  a  liberal  edu- 
cation. His  reputation  for  good  habits  and  intel- 
ligence induced  several  who  knew  him  to  favour 
his  plan  of  going  to  college.  After  pursuing  his 
studies  for  some  time  with  the  minister  of  the  par- 
ish, he  went  to  that  excellent  institution  in  Ando- 
ver,  Phillips'  Academy.  Mark  Newman,  Esq. 
was  then  Principal  of  that  Seminary.     This  in- 


235 

etcuctor  bad  discernment^  talents  and  fine  affec- 
tions, was  friendly,  kind  and  attentive  to  Hovey, 
and  treated  him  with  great  delicacy;  neglecting 
nothing  in  his  power  to  make  Hovey's  situation 
as  pleasant  as  possible.  But  it  requires  much 
courage  to  persevere  in  a  course  of  studies  for  a 
profession,  at  so  late  a  period  of  life.  The  student 
of  advanced  years  sees  children  before  him  in  ac- 
quirements, and  he  feels  himself  thrown  back  as  it 
were,  upon  time,  and  himself  a  mere  boy,  while  he 
feels  nothing  of  that  unthinking  gaiety  of  youth, 
which  makes  existence  itself  a  bliss,  but  has  to 
suffer  all  the  anxieties  of  manhood.  He  finds  that 
while  he  has  the  greatest  desire  of  obtaining  know- 
ledge, it  is  diflBcult  to  fix  his  attention  on  books, 
for  a  thousand  thoughts  of  the  world  obtrude 
themselves  to  disturb  him.  He  is  dissatisfied  with 
his  own  progress  in  learning,  because  those  who 
are  younger  advance  more  rapidly  than  he  does. 
He  takes  sprightliness,  forwardness  and  youthful 
ductility  for  genius  and  extraordinary  maturity  of 
judgment,  he  weighs  himself  unjustly  in  the  bal- 
ance, and  thinks  that  he  is  wanting  in  talents,  be- 
cause he  is  less  buoyant  and  fiexible  than  younger 
scholars.  His  thirst  for  knowledge  is  sometimes 
almost  quenched  by  looking  forward  and  measur- 
ing the  length  of  his  toilsome  march.     In  viewing 


236 

the  distance  between  himself  and  usefulness,  he 
holds  the  inverted  telescope  to  his  eye,  and  ap- 
parently the  object  to  be  obtained  is  diminished. 
Often  in  a  desponding  mood,  he  mistakes  the  fa- 
tigues of  body  and  mind  for  mental  imbecility  ; 
and  if  the  eternal  principle  of  self-consideration 
and  esteem  did  not  survive  to  keep  him  from  des- 
pair,  insanity  would  be  the  consequence. 

From  all  this  Hovey  suffered  as  much  as  man 
could  suffer,  but  he  calmly  persevered,  and  made 
fair  progress  in  his  pursuit,  gaining  and  securing 
friends  every  day.  In  the  year  1800  he  entered 
Harvard  University,  and  while  there  his  virtues, 
his  habits  and  attainments  gained  for  him  the  re- 
spect and  confidence  of  all  who  knew  him  ;  they 
however  were  but  few,  for  he  was  retired  and 
modest,  and  so  easily  confused  by  severity  and 
impudence,  that  it  was  difficult  to  understand  his 
character,  or  to  make  a  just  estimate  of  his  ac- 
quirements. 

After  leaving  college,  he  taught  a  school  for  a 
year  or  more,  and  then  entered  the  office  of  John 
Abbott,  Esq.  a  respectable  lawyer  of  Westford, 
in  the  county  of  Middlesex,  but  soon  removed  to 
Haverhill,  in  the  county  of  Essex,  and  pursued  his 
course  of  legal  studies  with  the  Hon.  John  Var- 
NUM  of  that  place,  until  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar 


237 

in  that  county,  at  the  September  term,  1808. — 
Here  he  opened  his  office  and  began  his  profes- 
sional life.  He  was  peculiarly  fortunate  in  fixing 
on  this  place  for  his  residence  as  a  student,  for 
Mr.  Varnum  was  not  ouly  his  legal  counsellor! 
and  friend,  but  his  liberal  creditor.  He  furnished 
HovEY  with  means  of  subsistence,  in  so  delicate 
and  kind  a  manner  that  every  one  who  saw  them 
together,  and  did  not  know  their  relations  to  each 
other,  might  imagine  that  the  one  who  bestowed 
was  the  one  obliged.  In  fact,  this  beautiful  vil- 
lage was  the  place  of  all  others  the  best  suited  to 
such  a  mind.  The  society  there  is  not  large, 
but  genteel  and  delightful,  full  of  sociability  and 
intelligence.  The  best  people  there  are  refined 
and  affectionate,  easy  and  communicative,  and  are 
always  unwilling  to  see  shut  out  of  their  circle, 
any  one  in  their  neighbourhood,  who  can  add  any 
thing  to  its  life  or  respectability.  In  that  place 
there  are  too  many  well-bred  persons  to  permit  a 
narrow,  exclusive  and  selfish  spirit  to  take  posses- 
sion of  them,  and  too  few  to  form  a  fashionable 
coterie,  in  which  pride,  heartlessness,  and  neglect 
of  merit  grows  amidst  the  splendour  which  encir- 
cles it.  They  perfectly  understood  Hovey's  vir- 
tues and  failings  ;  they  cherished  the  former  and 
forgot  the   latter,   and  with   them  he  enjoyed  as 


238 

much  as  was  ia  his  nature^  disposition  and  habits 
to  enjoy. 

As  a  classical  scholar,  Hovey's  acq[uireraeDts 
were  very  respectable.  In  Latin  and  Greek  his 
knowledge  was  correct.  With  mathematics  and 
metaphysics  he  had  rather  more  acquaintance, 
than  men  of  his  advantages  generally  possess,  and 
he  always  discovered  a  fondness  for  works  which 
required  the  exercise  of  the  mind  ;  I  never  knew 
him  leave  a  book  because  it  was  diflficult  to  be 
understood.  His  chief  delight  was  in  works  of 
eloquence,  poetry  and  able  essays ;  with  them  he 
was  well  acquainted,  and  he  quoted  with  readiness 
from  the  refined  productions  of  the  Augustan  age, 
and  more  particularly  from  those  of  the  age  imme- 
diately preceding  Augustus.  The  bursts  of  elo- 
quence and  patriotism  from  Chatham,  and  the 
elaborate  and  splendid  reasonings  of  Burke,  were 
all  in  his  memory.  What  Fox,  Pitt,  Hamilton 
and  Adams  had  written  and  spoken,  had  often 
been  read  and  admired  by  him.  But  the  more  he 
read  and  the  better  he  understood  these  produc- 
tious,  the  less  he  seemed  qualified  to  speak  him- 
self. He  felt  that  with  every  struggle  for  emi- 
nence he  must  fall  far  behind  such  men,  and 
therefore  he  would  not  make  the  attempt,  forget- 
ting that  even  these  great  men  had  to  learn,  and 


239 

made  every  exertion  to  improve.  The  sight  of  an 
audience  withered  all  his  faculties  and  dried  his 
brain.  An  audience  was  to  him  a  monster^  that 
made  his  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  his  mouthy 
and  in  an  instant  put  his  imagination  into  bondage. 
This  diffidence  did  not  particularly  arise  from 
respect  to  his  audience,  for  he  had  perhaps  less 
regard  for  public  opinion  than  most  men,  nor  did 
he  think  meanly  of  his  own  abilities  ;  but  whatever 
may  have  been  the  cause,  he  was  spell-bound  the 
moment  a  number  of  hearers  were  collected.  He 
loved  poetry,  and  discovered  niQch  taste  and  dis- 
crimination in  his  criticisms  on  the  works  of  an- 
cient and  modern  poets  ;  the  plaintive  and  elegiac 
he  preferred  to  the  sprightly  and  flowing. 

Sometimes  he  felt  the  influence  of  the  muses, 
and  produced  verses  of  considerable  merit,  which 
were  always  chaste  and  delicate,  but  wanting  in 
force  and  passion.  But  this  amusement  he  did 
not  pursue  with  much  industry,  for  his  judgment 
was  so  much  superior  to  his  inspiration,  that  he 
pruned,  altered  and  refined  liis  verses,  until  they 
were  weak  and  tame,  and  he  was  perfectly  dissat- 
isfied with  them.  In  music  he  was  an  amateur, 
and  played  the  flute  with  some  science,  and  I  be- 
lieve found  more  consolation  from  tliis  amusement 
than  from  any  other ;  for  when  he  was  fretful  and 


240 

moody,  his  flute  and  a  little  harpsichord  were  fre- 
quently used  ^'  to  charm  away  the  fiends/'  and 
they  seldom  failed  of  success. 

He  dwelt  long  upon  the  various  denominations 
of  the  Christian  religion,  without  making  up  his 
mind  which  was  the  best.  This  mode  of  worship 
was  wrong,  because  it  wanted  refinement,  and  was 
loved  by  the  vulgar,  and  that  because  it  was  pre- 
ferred by  the  aristocratic  and  wealthy.  This  had 
too  much  laxity  in  it  ;  that  too  much  bigotry. 
Of  some  creeds  he  admired  parts,  and  disliked 
other  parts,  and  therefore,  was  constantly  balanc- 
ing between  them.  But  it  is  not  insinuated,  that 
he  ever  wavered  in  his  faith  in  the  Christian  reli- 
gion. At  length  he  finally  settled  in  the  full  belief 
that  the  Episcopalian  form  of  worship  was  right, 
and  having  ad(jpted  it,  he  continued  stedfast  in  it 
to  the  last. 

Although  many  of  his  views  of  society  were 
wrong,  yet  his  observations  on  characters  were 
generally  shrewd,  learned  and  novel,  frequently  a 
little  tinctured  with  the  corrosive  and  sickly  im- 
pressions incident  to  cliafed  spirits.  It  could  not 
be  expected,  that  one  who  had  sufl'ered  so  much, 
could  be  entirely  impartial  or  magnanimous  in  his 
opinions.  If  his  remarks  were  sometimes  bitter, 
he  had  no  permancut  malice  in  his  nature.     His 


241 

sarcasms  were  only  the  feverish  breath  of  the  mo- 
ment, and  passed  away  like  the  vapours  of  the 
morning. 

From  this  delineation  it  will  be  readily  conjec- 
tured that  he  could  not  do  much  as  a  lawyer.  He 
had  read  with  diligence,  and  was  very  well  ac- 
quainted with  first  principles,  but  he  had  no  readi- 
ness in  practice,  for  he  hesitated,  reflected  and 
doubted,  until  his  client  lost  all  confidence  in  his 
knowledge  ;  yet  he  was,  in  truth,  a  safe  counsel- 
lor, for  he  had  nothing  of  the  boldness  of  igno- 
rance, that  rashly  commences  and  trusts  to  acci- 
dent for  ultimate  success.  Had  he  acted  as  well 
as  he  reasoned,  he  would  have  had  much  to  do, 
and  would  seldom  have  failed  in  obtaining  ap- 
plause for  his  talents  and  correctness  of  practice. 
A  timid  man  is  apt  to  communicate  his  timidity  to 
otiiers,  and  the  bold  and  presumptuous  are  not 
fond  of  those  so  little  like  themselves ;  they  can 
more  easily  find  excuses  for  ignorant  rashness, 
that  leads  to  error  and  failure,  than  for  that  timidi- 
ty and  hesitation,  that  dares  risk  nothing.  The 
diffident  and  delicate  in  the  profession  of  the  law 
have  much  to  suflPer.  Iron  nerves  and  an  undaunt- 
ed spirit,  are  as  necessary  to  make  a  successful 
lawyer,  as  knowledge  and  industry ;  and  all  must 
be  combined  in  the  advocate.  Hovey  was  the 
3i 


242 

most  rapturous  admirer  of  intrepidity  in  a  lawyer. 
He  would  frequently  dwell  with  delight  upon  the 
hardihood  of  Thurlow  and  Erskine,  but  could  not 
in  any  degree  imitate  their  courage  and  confidence. 
Before  a  justice  of  the  peace  he  could  hardly 
make  a  speech  of  ten  minutes  in  length,  however 
necessary  it  might  be  in  his  business. 

His  feelings,   which   were  always   acute,  fre- 
quently grew  morbid  in  brooding  over  the  evils  he 
had  to  bear,  or  thought  he   had  to   bear.     A  man 
of   taste  and   refinement,    of   quick    sympathies, 
and  of  prolific  imagination;  he   of  course  was  a 
friend  and  admirer  of  the  fair,  but  he  never  bad 
any  partiality  for  a  particular  lady,  without  con- 
juring up  a  host  of  rivals  to  destroy  his  hopes. 
It    was   not    in   his  disposition  to  enjoy   even  a 
dream  of  love   without  the  nightmare  of  jealousy 
His  fancy  was  forever  at  work,  creating  bowers 
of  bliss,  but  between    every   osier   that   he    en- 
twined, a  satyr  threw  his  hideous  glance  to  disturb 
the  sacred  seclusion,  and  a  serpent  lurked  among 
the  flowers   that  he  strewed  around  his  paradise, 
to  wound   the   tender  foot  of   the  lover  with  his 
stins.     He  was  fond  of  amusement,  and  was  wil- 
ling  to  exert  himself  to   promote  it;   but  in   the 
midst  of  the  banquet,  he  frequently  saw  a  death's 
head  on  the  table,  and  if  a  beauty  floated  down  the 


243 

dance  with  uncommoa  grace,  inatanlly  to  his  eye 
a  spectre  followed,  exhibiting  every  emblem  of 
uncertainty,  dissolution,  corruption,  and  all  the 
horrors  of  the  grave,  and  he  would  gaze  on  the 
^'  unreal  mockery"  he  had  called  up,  witlj  inten- 
sity and  fondness.  He  was  not  agitated  at  their 
appearance,  for  he  knew  that  his  evil  genius  had 
created  them,  and  that  they  were  laid  at  his  will. 
He  did  not  fear  to  die,  nor  did  he  set  much 
value  on  life,  but  he  wished  to  live  long,  and 
would  frequently  calculate  his  chance  for  old  age, 
but  iu  this  wish  he  was  happily  disappointed. 

In  person  he  was  tall,  thin  and  pale,  and  was 
singularly  abstemious,  fearing  that  he  should 
grow  plethoric  by  indulgence,  while  he  was  wast- 
ing away  in  a  settled  consumption. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1815,  his  friends  were 
convinced  that  he  could  not  live  long,  and  he  was 
informed  of  this  opinion,  but  he  did  not  think  his 
case  alarming,  until  he  was  scarcely  able  to  walk  ; 
but  when  the  certainty  of  a  speedy  dissolution  was 
impressed  upon  his  mind,  he  was  not  in  the  slight- 
est degree  disturbed,  but  seemed  another  being. 
All  the  soreness  left  his  heart,  all  the  wounds  of 
his  pride  were  healed.  The  diseases  of  the  dis- 
position and  the  fancy,  all  that  ever  rankled  in  his 
bosom,  or  embittered  his  reflections,  passed  away 


244 

and  left  Dot  a  trace  behind.  A  pure  serenity  of 
soul — a  high  and  holy  feelings  full  of  philanthropy 
and  devotion,  beamed  from  his  sunken  eye,  and 
spoke  in  every  aspiration.  At  this  moment  all  his 
enmities  were  forgotten,  all  his  injuries  forgiven, 
and  all  his  friendships  glowed  with  new  life.  As 
the  hand  of  death  pressed  harder  upon  his  brow, 
hope  and  joy  beamed  brighter  in  his  countenance. 
This  illumination  was  a  religious  eestacy,  unmin- 
gled  with  regret  and  undisturbed  with  doubts  or 
fears.  The  way  to  happiness  was  not  covered 
with  clouds  or  darkness.  The  track  that  the  gos- 
pel had  revealed  was  brighter  than  noon-day. — 
The  dream  of  the  patriarch  was  realized  in  his 
waking  visions,  for  the  Saviour  of  men  had  let 
down  the  ladder  from  heaven  to  earth,  and  angels 
ascended  and  descended  to  waft  his  prayers  and 
bring  him  consolation.  Philosophy  may  produce 
insensibility  or  hardihood,  but  religion  alone  can 
take  away  the  sting  from  death  and  the  victory 
from  the  grave. 

He  died  in  the  summer  of  1815,  and  lies  buried 
in  the  parish  grave-yard  of  his  native  town. 


WEST. 


I  RECOLLECT  the  venerable  appearance  of 
Benjamin  West,  at  the  New  Hampshire  bar, 
nearly  twenty  years  ago.  His  bleached  hair,  his 
placid  countenance,  his  sweet  and  fine  toned  voice 
made  an  impression  on  my  youthful  mind  too  deep 
to  be  soon  forgotten.  The  judges,  the  lawyers, 
the  jurymen,  spectators  and  all,  seemed  to  pay 
him  that  respect  which  genius  and  virtue  united 
only  can  command.  It  was  a  homage  which 
wealth,  power,  talents  or  even  virtues,  could  not 
separately  inspire.  This  good  man  was  then 
about  taking  his  leave  of  courts  and  professional 
business,  for  the  retirement  and  contemplations  of 
age.  It  was  at  that  interesting  moment  when 
competition  ceases,  and  envy  and  ill  nature  is 
silent. 

When  I  first  thought  of  making  these  sketches, 
my  attention  was  directed  to  collecting  something 
of  West  ;  but  after  making  considerable  inquiry 
I  could  get  nothing  or  but  little,  of  anecdote  or  in- 
cident in  his  life.     To  his   characteristic  talent. 


246 

integritj"  and  eloquence,  all  who  knew  bim  could 
bear  witness ;  but  those  around  him  never  knew, 
or  had  forgotten,  the  circumstances  of  bis  early 
life.  There  must  be  something  of  biography  given 
in  drawing  the  character  of  a  distinguished  man 
to  make  it  interesting.  We  must  know  in  what 
manner  he  acquired  his  fame  and  how  and  where 
he  exerted  his  powers,  as  well  as  to  understand 
that  he  possessed  them. 

I  had  nearly  given  up  the  thought  of  putting 
West  among  my  sketches,  but  making  one  more 
effort  to  gain  some  materials  for  bis  life,  I  called 
on  a  nephew  of  his,  a  gentleman  of  Boston,  who 
bears  his  name,  and  he  kindly  put  into  my  hands 
a  memoir  of  their  family  dictated  by  his  father, 
the  Rev.  Samuel  West,  D.  D.  which  contained 
an  account  of  his  brother. 

Doctor  Samuel  West,  who  was  several  years 
senior  to  his  brother  Benjamin,  was  son  of  the 
Rev.  Thomas  West,  a  clergyman,  formerly  set- 
tied  at  Rochester,  in  the  county  of  Plymouth,  but 
Samuel  was  born  at  Martha's  Vineyard,  while  his 
father  was  a  teacher  of  youth  at  that  place,  pre- 
vious to  his  entering  the  ministry.  Samuel  was 
educated  at  Cambridge  University,  and  soon  after 
leaving  college  read  divinity  and  was  ordained 
over  a  parish  in  Needham,  in  the  county  of  Mid- 


247 

dlesex,  but  was  afterwards  installed  pastor  of  the 
HolHs  street  society  in  Boston.     He  was  distin- 
guisbed  for  his  learning,  meekness,  piety  and  liber- 
ality of  sentiment,  and  also  for  his  apostolical  sim- 
plicity and  purity  of  manners.    He  belonged  to  that 
school  of  divines  of  which  Mayhew,  Tucker,  and 
Symes  were   ornaments.     In  his  old  age  when  his 
bodily  faculties  were  approaching  decrepitude,  but 
while  bis  mind  was  sound  and  vigorous,  and  his 
heart  had  no  fountain  as  yet  dried  up,  these  memoirs 
of  those  near  and  dear  to  him  were  written.     At 
that  moment  he  stood  on  the  confines  of  both  worlds, 
and  saw  that  the  vanities  of  this  were  rapidly  pass- 
ing away.    All  the  ambitious  feelings  of  his  nature^ 
if   he  ever  had   any,  were   dead.     This  account 
flows  with  such  simplicity,  honesty,  refinement  and 
aflfection,   that   after  mature  deliberation   1  have 
given  it  entire.     I  had  drawn,  what  I  thought  a 
fair  likeness  of  West  from  these  documents,  but 
on  looking  it  over  I  felt  guilty  of  a  sort  of  profan- 
ation,   and   threw  it  aside.     The   sweet  flowers 
scattered  through  this  memoir,  which  grew  from 
brotherly  love,  were  chilled  and  destroyed  by  a 
stranger's  hand. 

The  influence  of  the  ties  of  consanguinity  upon 
the  narrative,  and  the  charms  of  friendship  and 
affection  so  delicately  flowing  through  it, 


248 

"  Like  the  sweet  south, 

That  breathes  upon  a  bank  of  violets, 

Stealing,  and  giving  odour," 

fled  as  the  connexion  between  the  historian  and 
the  subject  was  changed,  and  the  bond  between 
the  brothers  was  broken. 

The  reader  will  see  in  this  account  which  the 
elder  brother  gives  of  the  younger,  some  few  refer- 
ences to  what  has  been  said  before  of  some  other 
members  of  the  family,  but  I  have  preserved  the 
sentences  as  I  found  them,  as  I  thought  this  occa- 
sional allusion  to  others  would  not  obscure  the 
meaning  of  a  single  passage,  nor  mislead  any  one 
however  ignorant  of  what  might  have  been  previ- 
ously stated. 

"The  10th  child  and  6th  son  of  my  parents  was 
a  second  Benjamin.  It  appears  from  their  giving 
him  this  name,  that  my  parents  felt  nothing  of  that 
foolish  superstition,  which  leads  some  people  to 
suppose  that  calling  a  second  cliild  by  the  name  of 
one  deceased,  is  inauspicious,  and  implies  that  the 
last  must  soon  become  the  victim  of  death.  How 
much  would  it  lessen  the  miseries  of  mankind  if 
numberless  chimeras  of  this  kind  could  be  banish- 
ed from  their  minds,  and  they  could  be  convinced 
that  nothing  could  essentially  injure  them,  but  de- 
viations from  the  path  of  rectitude,  or  disobedience 


249 

to  the  will  and  order  of  that  great  and  good  Being 
who  upholds  and  governs  all  things.  My  brother 
was  born  April  8th,  1746,  just  at  the  close  of  that 
distressing  affliction  v;ith  which  the  family  had 
been  exercised  through  the  whole  of  tlie  preceding 
winter,  in  the  extreme  sickness  of  nearly  every 
member,  and  tlie  death  of  one  of  their  number,  as 
already  related.  Whether  this  circumstance,  or 
the  extreme  anxiety  of  the  mother  previous  to  his 
birth,  had  any  influence  on  the  temper  and  dispo- 
sition of  her  child,  is  a  curious  and  not  uninterest- 
ing question.  The  fact  is,  that  my  brother,  from 
his  earliest  years,  discovered  a  disposition  uncom- 
monly sedate,  serious  and  ccmtemplative.  He 
never  appeared,  even  in  childhood,  to  feel  that 
fondness  for  childish  diversions  which  is  usual  at 
that  period.  It  was  the  same  when  he  had  ad- 
vanced to  the  second  stage  in  the  journey  of  life. 
He  discovered  as  little  relish  for  the  common 
amusements  of  youth,  as  he  had  done  for  those  of 
the  child.  As  I  believe  is  generally  the  case  with 
persons  of  his  sedate  temper ;  his  social  affections 
and  attachments  were  remarkably  strong,  and  for 
the  same  reason  his  dislikes  were  proportionally 
in  the  extreme.  This  trait  of  character  has  fol- 
lowed him  through  life,  and  few  men  are  more 
liable  to  prejudices,  either  for  or  against  individual 

32 


250 

persons  or  characters.  This,  I  trust,  he  has  ia 
gome  measure  corrected  by  the  influence  of  that 
moral  principle  by  which  he  has  endeavoured  to 
govern  both  his  temper  and  conduct.  But  how 
difficult  it  is  to  counteract  the  natural  tendency  of 
the  heart,  especially  in  cases  where  virtue  itself 
will  seem  to  justify  its  indulgence!  I  have  al- 
ready mentioned  the  predilections  which  often  take 
place  in  large  families,  and  instanced  in  one  which 
took  place  between  myself  and  an  elder  brother, 
to  whom  1  looked  up  as  to  the  patron  of  my  child- 
hood and  youth.  In  the  present  instance,  there 
was  a  similar  predilection,  but  it  was  reversed.  I 
was  now  become  the  patron,  and  my  brother  al- 
ways expressed,  and  appeared  to  feel  the  strongest 
attachment  to  me,  as  I  did  the  most  sincere  and 
ardent  affection  for  him.  This  mutual  regard  for 
each  other  commenced  in  his  infancy ;  it  grew 
with  our  growth,  and  strengthened  with  our 
strength,  and  has  never,  in  a  single  instance,  beea 
interrupted,  for  more  than  sixty  years.  It  is,  in- 
stead of  being  lessened,  confirmed  by  age,  and  can 
never  end  but  with  our  existence.  In  the  year 
1763,  Providence  deprived  us  of  our  amiable, 
pious,  and  affectionate  mother.  On  which  occa- 
sion my  brother  discovered  at  once  the  sedateuess 
of  his  temper,  and  the  strength  of  filial  affection. 


251 

His  grief  could  only  be  discovered  from  the  sad- 
ness;,  or  ratlier  the  sedateness  of  his  countenance. 
He  was  profoundly  silent  under  this  painful  afflic- 
tion ;  yet  his  grief  was  so  deep  and  so  lasting,  that 
for  years  after  the  event,  if  at  any  time  he  was  by 
company  and  conversation  induced  to  indulge  in 
the  most  innocent  hilarity,  it  was  immediately 
cheeked  by  the  recurrence  of  this  painful  circum- 
stance, and  appeared  to  him  a  kind  of  profanation 
of  that  memory,  which  he  held  as  sacred.  It  is  a 
common  observation,  which  has  been  often  verified 
by  my  experience,  that  silent  sorrow  is,  in  the 
general,  much  more  deep  and  lasting,  than  that 
which  is  noisy  and  tumultuous. 

The  pecuniary  circumstances  of  my  father  were, 
as  has  already  been  observed,  extremely  straiten- 
ed. When  I  left  college,  he  had  contracted  for 
him,  whose  income  was  so  very  small,  an  heavy 
debt,  which  he  could  not  discharge  without  my 
assistance.  This  assistance  I  was  enabled  to 
afford  by  ray  settlement  received  from  my  parish^ 
which  was  £133  6s.  Sd.  ;  one  half  of  which  went  to 
discharge  the  debts  which  had  been  contracted 
chiefly  on  my  account,  and  the  other  half  I  as 
cheerfully  devoted  to  assist  in  the  education  of  my 
brother.  He  was  accordingly  put  upon  the  study 
of  the  languages,  under  the  tuition  of  our  father, 


252 

and  as  lie  was  considerably  advanced  in  years^ 
after  studying  a  few  months,  understanding  that 
young  men  were  admitted  into  Nassau  college, 
who,  although  not  properly  fitted  to  take  their 
standing  with  their  class,  were  allowed  by  attend- 
ing the  school  connected  with  the  college,  to  try 
whether  they  could  not,  in  the  course  of  a  few* 
months,  so  far  gain  upon  their  class,  as  to  be 
properly  admitted  to  their  standing  in  it.  My 
brother  was  admitted  on  this  ground — soon  made 
good  his  standing,  and  took  his  place  accordingly. 
He  continued  at  Nassau  Hall  but  one  year,  in 
which  time  he  acquired  some  reputation  as  a 
scholar,  although  his  studies  were  interrupted  by 
his  having  the  small-pox  by  inoculation  during  this 
period.  For  greater  convenience  of  communica- 
tion with  his  friends  he  then  removed  to  Harvard 
college,  in  Cambridge,  where  he  finished  his  aca- 
demical education,  and  was  admitted  to  his  first 
degree,  July,  1768.  He  left  college  with  a  good 
character,  which  is  of  great  importance,  especially 
to  those  who  are  poor,  and  must  make  their  living 
by  their  own  exertions.  If  it  is  true,  as  has  been 
often  said,  <*  that  time  is  money,"  it  is  equally 
true,  that  a  good  character  is  better  than  money. 
It  \\ill  procure  for  us  many  advantages  which 
money  cannot  purchase.     Happy  would  it  be  for 


253 

young  persons  if  this  was  more  generally  attended 
to.  Every  one  might  in  that  case  possess  a  for- 
tune, of  which  nothing  but  his  own  folly  could 
deprive  him. 

On  his  leaving  college,  my  brother  immediately 
took  a  private  school  in  the  town  of  Worcester,  in 
which  he  continued  for  two  years  ;  at  the  end  of 
which,  he  commenced  the  study  of  divinity  with 
me  at  Needham,  and  became  a  public  professor  of 
Christianity,  by  joining  the  church  in  that  town. 
He  was  educated  with  a  view  to  the  ministry,  and 
directed  his  studies  accordingly,  but  never  appear- 
ed to  be  pleased  with  the  profession,  as  it  required 
so  much  public  exhibition,  to  whiclj  his  natural 
reserve  was  exceediugly  opposed.  He  however 
complied  with  the  wishes  of  his  friends  so  far  as 
to  pursue  the  study,  and  in  January,  1771,  began 
to  preach  in  a  vacant  parish  in  Wrentham,  and 
met  with  good  acceptance,  but  found  it  so  painful, 
and  attended  vi'ith  such  injury  to  his  health,  that 
after  eight  sabbaths  he  was  obliged  to  relinquish 
it.  He  was  now  in  a  most  painful  situation — he 
had  no  means  to  support  him,  either  in  the  study 
of  the  law,  or  of  physic  ;  and  for  the  same  reason, 
he  could  not  enter  on  any  mercantile  business. 
After  consuming  some  extremely  gloomy  weeks  at 
my  house,  reflecting  on  the  subject,  he  finally  con- 


254 

eluded  to  seek  his  fortune  on  the  ocean.  This 
result  was  the  effect  of  a  kind  of  desperation  ;  for 
it  is  hardly  possible  for  any  man  to  be  less  quali- 
fied for  it  than  he  was  ;  his  education,  habits,  and 
disposition  were  such,  as  led  to  a  retired,  still,  and 
quiet  mode  of  life.  But,  chimerical  as  it  was,  he 
pursued  it  so  far,  as  partially  to  engage  himself 
for  a  voyage  as  a  fore-mast  hand.  During  this 
time  he  carefully  avoided  all  his  old  acquaintance. 
But  accidentally  meeting  with  Mr.  Andrew  Hen- 
shaw  in  this  town,  who  had  been  both  his  class 
and  chamber-mate  at  college,  and  who  had  a  warm 
affection  for  him,  he  found  it  impossible  to  escape 
from  him  until  he  had  given  him  some  general  in- 
formation with  respect  to  his  views  and  designs. 
Mr.  Heushaw  was  exceedingly  interested  in  the 
business,  and  prevailed  on  my  brother  to  dine  with 
him  at  his  father's.  Old  Mr.  Henshaw  was  a  good 
man,  and  entered  warmly  into  the  views  of  his  son, 
and  both  together  prevailed  on  my  brother  to  relin- 
quish his  design  of  going  to  sea,  with  the  prospect 
of  admission  into  an  office  for  the  study  of  the  law, 
where  he  would  have  it  in  his  power  to  support 
himself  by  instructing  two  or  three  children  in  a 
private  family,  and  to  which  birth  Air.  Henshaw 
engaged  to  facilitate  his  admission.  In  prosecu- 
tion of  this  plan,  young  Mr.  Henshaw  brought  him 


255 

back  to  ray  house,  much  to  the  alleviation  of  my 
anxiety  on  his  account.  In  a  short  time  after  I 
carried  him  to  Worcester,  from  whence  in  a  few 
days  he  repaired  to  Lancaster,  where  he  com- 
menced his  clerkship  in  the  office  of  Abel  Wil- 
lard,  Esq.  a  worthy,  good  man,  who  treated  him 
with  the  greatest  kindness  and  generosity.  I 
cannot  but  notice  here,  what  little  incidents  often 
determine  the  fortunes  of  men,  and  give  direction 
to  all  the  after  events  of  their  lives.  My  brother's 
not  becoming  a  sailor,  in  consequence  of  which  he 
would  probably  have  been  lost  both  to  himself  and 
to  his  friends,  was  prevented  by  his  accidentally 
meeting  with  Mr.  Henshaw,  whom  he  had  cau- 
tiously avoided.  Here,  as  in  every  thing,  indeed, 
we  are  to  recognize  the  hand  of  that  infinitely 
wise  and  good  Providence,  which  by  a  secret,  but 
unerring  agency,  directs  every  thing  for  the  accom- 
plishment of  his  own  parental  purposes,  in  promot- 
ing the  happiness  of  his  creatures.  We  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  follow  the  leadings  of  his  Pro- 
vidence, by  obeying  the  dictates  of  conscience  in 
every  situation,  and  he  will  assuredly  conduct  us  in 
the  peaceful  paths  of  virtue,  to  the  possession  of  all 
that  happiness  of  which  our  natures  are  capable. 

After  spending  the  usual  time  in  an  office,  my 
brother,  understanding  that  there  was  an  opening 


256 

where  aa  attorney  might  probably  fiuil  business, 
in  the  town  of  Charlestown,  N.  H.  he  visited  that 
town,  and  was  kindly  received  by  a  Mr.  Olcott, 
who  had  already  established  himself  as  an  attorney 
in  the  place,  but  very  generously  offered  to  receive 
my  brother  into  a  kind  of  partnership  in  the  busi- 
ness. He  accordingly  fixed  himself  there,  and  ia 
July,  1773,  was  admitted  as  an  attorney  of  the 
court  of  common  pleas.  But  the  revolutionary 
war  coming  on,  soon  interrupted,  and  at  length 
completely  suspended  his  business  in  the  practice 
of  Ihe  law.  Meeting,  in  Boston,  with  a  very  invit- 
ing offer  to  visit  South  Carolina,  he  was  induced 
to  accept  it,  as  the  war  had  not  as  yet  extended  to 
that  part  of  the  continent,  he  hoped  to  escape  its 
tumults,  see  a  considerable  part  of  the  country, 
and  hereafter  return  in  peace  to  his  situation  in 
Charlestown,  for  which  he  now  felt  a  very  great 
predilection.  In  pursuance  of  this  design,  he  left 
Charlestown,  New  Hampshire,  October,  1777, 
and  arrived  at  Charleston,  South  Carolina,  De- 
cember I4lh,  and  took  up  his  residence  in  the  very 
agreeable  family  of  a  Mr.  tribbs,  a  rich  planter  in 
that  state,  as  private  tutor  to  his  children." 

Here  follow  in  the  memoir  several  letters  written 
by  Benjamin  while  at  Charleston,  South  Carolina, 
giving  a  very  pleasant,  and  a  very  minute  account 


257 

of  his  journey  on  horseback  from  Boston.  These 
letters  make  a  considerable  history  of  the  soil, 
climate,  manners,  habits  and  productions  of  the 
several  states  through  which  he  passed.  I  have 
no  doubt  but  that  these  letters  contained  more  in- 
formation on  these  subjects  than  could  readily  be 
found  in  any  other  work  of  that  day.  He  was  a 
little  inclined  to  be  satirical,  and  saw  with  north- 
ern eyes  the  people  of  the  south,  and  although  he 
was  a  very  shrewd  young  man  he  had  not  at  that 
time  seen  enough  of  the  world  to  be  just  in  com- 
paring the  benefits  and  advantages  of  these  different 
sections  of  the  country  with  his  own.  His  picture 
of  the  country,  of  their  morals  and  manners,  was  no 
doubt  a  pretty  fair  and  faithful  one  for  the  period 
in  which  it  was  drawn,  yet  as  that  was  a  time  of 
war  and  distress,  when  every  thing  put  on  its  worst 
form,  it  would  hardly  be  generous  to  exhibit  it  for 
their  present  likeness.  His  stay  at  tiie  south  was 
not  very  long,  for  the  first  letter  he  wrote  was 
dated  January  30,  1778.  and  his  last  July  22, 
1779.  Two  days  after  this  date  he  left  Charles- 
ton for  the  north. 

^^  In  his  endeavours  to  escape  from  the  tumults 

of  war,  ray   brother    was    sadly   disappointed  ;  it 

soon  followed  him  to  that  quarter.    In  consequence 

of  which  he  became  one  of  about  sixty  or  seventy 

33 


258 

young  geutlemen  of  that  place  to  form  a  company 
of  light-horse,  whose  duty  it  was  to  watch  the 
motions  of  the  enemy,  and  by  giving  timely  infor- 
mation, to  prevent  a  surprise.  Our  young  soldiers 
were  found  useful,  and  might  have  been  very  safe, 
had  they  not  been  betrayed  by  one  of  their  own 
company,  who  deserted  in  the  night,  informed  the 
enemy  of  tlieir  situation,  and  conducted  them  to 
the  house  in  which  tliey  were  quartered.  The 
night  was  dark,  the  house  was  surrounded,  and 
they  were  taken  by  surprise,  and  surrendered 
prisoners  of  war,  witliout  attempting  any  opposi- 
tion, which,  in  their  situation,  would  have  been 
the  height  of  folly.  It  must  have  proved  fatal  to 
themselves,  without  producing  any  advantage  to 
their  country.  The  wretch  who  betrayed  them 
must  have  been  an  object  of  contempt  even  to  those 
in  wiiose  favour  the  treachery  was  perpetrated.  It 
is  a  just  remark,  that  although  treachery  may  be 
approved,  the  traitor  is  always  despised  ;  honesty 
in,  and  fidelity  to  our  engagements,  are  such  in- 
teresting virtues,  as  that  their  opposites  must  al- 
ways excite  the  indignation  of  mankind.  My 
brother  continued  a  prisoner  but  about  six  weeks, 
was  treated  witli  humanity  and  politeness,  and 
was  then  exchanged.  The  principal  mortification 
which  he  suffered  on  ti»is  occasion  was  the  loss  of 


259 

Ibe  very  line  horse  Avhich  lie  mentions  in  his  letters 
with  so  mucli  affection,  and  being  obliged  to  wit- 
ness the  cruel  manner  in  which  Jack  was  abused, 
and  even  worked  lo  dt^ath  by  the  British. 

His  poverty  secured  him  against  any  considera- 
ble pecuniary  loss,  although,  as  it  might  be  said  of 
him  omnia  mea  mecum  porto,  so  the  loss  of  his 
horse  and  his  apparel,  was  in  fact,  losing  his  all. 
As  he  went  out,  so  he  must  return,  poor.  But  the 
virtuous  man  is  never  destitute  of  that  support 
which  virtue  alone  can  furnish,  and  of  which  no 
untoward  events  can  deprive  him.  You  have 
found  by  reading  his  letters,  that  the  warm  climate 
of  South  Carolina  did  not  at  all  agree  with  my 
brother's  constitution.  It  appears  from  his  letters 
that  Itis  mode  of  living  was  at  once  rigidly  abste- 
mious and  regular.  Perha{)s  a  little  mure  freedom 
might  have  conduced  to  his  health,  but  he  certainly 
chose  the  safest  extreme  on  the  whole.  I  had, 
both  from  himself  and  others,  repeated  accounts  of 
his  sickness,  and  at  length  received  an  account  of 
his  death.  It  was  what  1  had  been  expecting, 
and  was  therefore  in  a  measure  prepared  for.  I 
did  not  indeed  at  first  give  credit  to  the  report,  but 
after  some  months  had  elapse<l,  and  I  had  gained 
no  intelligence  to  the  contrary,  1  was  led  to  sup- 
pose that  it  must  be  true.     T  suffered  therefore  all 


260 

the  painful  impressions  of  sucli  an  event,  and  every 
one  who  has  read  these  memoirs  must  be  convinced 
that  it  was  no  common  degree  of  affliction  which  I 
felt  on  the  occasion.     Nor  was  I  relieved  from  it 
until  his  return,  and  ocular  demonstration  of  his 
being  alive.    I  was  sitting  in  my  parlour,  intensely 
engaged  in  reading,  when  my  brother  opened  the 
iloor  and  entered.     I  had  only  the  power  to  utter 
a  kind  of  involuntary  exclamation — my  brother ! 
Nor  was  it  until  I  had  held  him  some  time  by  the 
hand,  that  I  could  either  speak  to  him,  or  satisfy 
myself  that  it  was  not  a  vision,  rather  than  a  reali- 
ty.    After  some  time,  the  minds  of  both  returned 
to  their  usual  calmness,  our  brotherly  affections 
flowed  in  their  former  channels,  and  we  enjoyed 
each   other's   company  with  ^n   increased  relish. 
He    then    informed    me  that  he  left  Charleston, 
South  Carolina,   July   24th,   1779,    designed    for 
Philadelphia  by  water— that  he  was   then   very 
sick — that  they  met  with  bad  weather — were  dis- 
masted,   and  obliged  to  put  iuto  Wilmington  to 
refit,  and  in  short,  tliat  after  many  untoward  events, 
and  suffering  much   from  sickness  and  other  cir- 
cumstances,  he  arrived   at  Philadelphia,   August 
13th,  1779,  and  at  Chariestown,  New  Hampshire, 
the  31st  of  the  same  montli — was  kindly  received 
by  his  old  friend  xVIr.  Olcott,  and  again  commenc- 


261 

ed  business  in  that  county,  where  he  was  admitted 
as  an  attorney  at  the  Supreme  Court,  October, 
1780. 

Considering  the  confused  state  of  the  country  at 
that  time,  he  obtained  botli  reputation  and  employ- 
ment beyond  what  could  have  been  reasonably 
expected.  Fidelity  to  his  clients,  attention  to  and 
perseverance  in  his  business,  had  the  effect  which 
they  always  will  and  must  have  with  all  consider- 
ate and  reflecting  people.  He  secured  the  esteem 
and  confidence  of  his  fellow  creatures.  Encourag- 
ed by  these  circumstances,  January  8tlj,  1781,  he 
ventured  to  marry  the  lady  with  whom  he  had  for 
many  years  been  connected  by  the  most  sincere 
and  ardent  mutual  affection,  viz.  Miss  Mary,  the 
eldest  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Maccarty,  of 
Worcester.  Disposed  and  qualified  as  he  was  for 
domestic  life  and  its  quiet  enjoyments,  he  had 
never,  until  this  time,  been  in  a  situation  in  which 
prudence  would  have  justified  him  in  complying 
with  his  inclinations;  and  he  was  too  much  the 
man  of  principle  to  admit  of  his  involving  the 
object  of  his  affections  in  those  embarrassments 
and  perplexities  which  had  hitherto  attended  his 
situation.  It  would  be  happy  for  many  married 
people,  had  they  acted  with  the  same  caution.  It 
is  our  duty  indeed  to  repose  confidence  in  Provi- 


262 

(lence  ;  but  tliis  very  confidence  can  only  be  sup- 
ported b^'^  a  consciousness  that  we  bave  acted  with 
prudence  and  according  to  the  dictates  of  our  un- 
derstanding. The  contrar^'^  would  be  presumption. 
In  order  to  guard  against  exciting  tbe  envy  of  his 
neighbours,  and  lest  they  should  be  led  to  suppose 
that  he  obtained  property  faster  than  he  actually 
did,  lie  commenced  house-keeping  in  a  slyle  as 
ordinary  as  was  consistent  with  either  decency  or 
comfort,  and  was  careful  by  no  means  to  assume 
any  degree  of  superiority  over  liis  neighbours. 
But  even  this  caution  did  not  secure  him  against 
that  "  spirit  in  man  which  lustetli  to  envy.''  For 
in  October,  1783,  his  office  was  broiien  open  in 
the  night  and  robbed  of  property  to  a  very  large, 
amount,  chiefly  in  specialties  which  were  commit- 
ted to  iiim  for  collection,  and  for  which  he  was 
responsible.  This  was  a  heavy  stroke.  But  he 
bore  it  with  the  same  equal  and  undisturbed  tem- 
per which  lie  had  discovered  on  every  former  oc- 
casion. Instead  of  using  any  exertions  to  detect 
the  culprit,  lie  adopted  the  policy  of  remaining 
perfectly  ijuiet.  The  consequence  justified  his 
conduct  and  produced  the  effect  which  he  expect- 
ed. For  in  a  short  time  after,  tlie  most  valuable 
ef  these  papers  were  returned  in  the  same  private 
manner  in  which   they  had  been  taken  away,  and 


263 

he  was  given  to  understand  that  it  was  the  ellect 
of  his  silence  and  moderation  oa  the  occasion. 
He  did  indeed  suspect  a  particular  person  as  being 
the  author  of  this  villany,  and  miglit  possibly  have 
convicted  hira,  but  the  certain  consequence  would 
have  been,  the  destruction  of  the  papers  and  the 
inveterate  hatred  of  the  man  and  of  all  uho  were 
connected  with  him.  His  loss,  after  all,  was  con- 
siderable, but  nothing  like  what  it  threatened  at 
first.  He  soon  rose  superior  to  it,  and  went  on  in 
his  business  with  increasing  advantage,  and  might 
have  acquired  a  large  estate  in  a  few  years,  had 
he  pursued  the  measures,  and  taken  advantage  of 
the  circumstances,  of  which  many  of  his  profession 
avail  themselves,  fur  that  purpose.  But  there  are 
two  very  remarkable  traits  in  my  brotiier's  charac- 
ter, in  which  he  appears  almost  to  contradict  na- 
ture's strongest  tendency,  viz.  jiis  fixed  determi- 
nation  neither  to  accumulate  great  wealth,  nor  to 
accept  those  offices  of  honour  and  distinctiuu  vvhicii 
mankind  in  general  so  zealously  covet  and  pursue. 
His  sincerity  in  this  decision  against  wealth  and 
honour  is  sufficiently  evident  to  those  who  have 
been  intimate  with  him,  and  have  had  oppurtunify 
to  mark  his  conduct  from  early  life.  Sle  not  only 
refused  to  improve  manv  ofl'er^  whicli  have  been 
urged  upon  him  in  the  liue  of  his  profession,  nud 


264 

a  compliance  with  whicli  would  neither  have  been 
inconsistent  with  honour  or  honesty  ;  but.  as  he 
acquired  property^  he  took  care  to  improve  it  in 
acts  of  liberality  to  his  friends  and  neighbours, 
leaving  no  more  than  a  moderate  coaipetency  for 
himself.  This  is  the  more  extraordinary,  as  it  has 
been  often,  and  I  believe  justly  observed,  that  men 
who  have  no  children  are  generally  more  avari- 
cious  than  those  who  have.  The  reason  given  for 
it  i?,  that  our  social  affections  either  call  off  our 
attention  from  mere  worldly  interests,  or  lead  us 
to  consider  it  as  good  in  no  other  view  than  as 
furnishing  the  means  of  promoting  the  comfort  and 
happiness  of  those  who  are  nearest  and  dearest  to 
our  hearts.  To  this  we  may  add  the  influence  of 
habit.  The  man  who  has  a  family  of  children  de- 
pending upon  him,  is  in  the  habit  of  dealing  out 
his  property  for  their  subsistence  and  comfort ;  the 
man  who  has  not  this  call  upon  his  income,  as 
naturally  conveys  liis  gains  to  his  chest,  hence  the 
one  becomes  liberal,  and  the  other  a  miser,  from 
habit.  Besides,  the  man  who  has  children,  con- 
siders them  as  a  kind  of  security  for  his  support 
and  comfort  in  old  age.  He  who  has  not,  views 
bis  property  as  the  only  ground  on  which  he  can 
rest  secure.  AVith  that  he  is  sure  he  can  purchase 
at  least  a  mercenary  attendance  when  age  and  in- 


265 

firmities  shall  render  it  necessary.  The  man  who 
rises  above  all  these  seducing  motives  to  avarice^ 
is  surely  worthy  of  double  honour.  Of  this  supe- 
riority to  circumstances,  I  think  I  may  say  without 
prejudice  in  his  favour,  that  my  brother  affords  a 
striking  example.  For  I  never  have  known  the 
man  who,  according  to  his  means,  has  been  more 
liberal,  or  done  more  to  promote  the  comfort  and 
happiness  of  those  around  him,  whether  relations 
or  others.  As  evidence  of  his  not  coveting,  but 
even  feeling  an  aversion  to  public  office,  it  is  suffi- 
cient to  mention  the  numerous  appointments  which 
he  has  received  from  the  State  to  which  he  be- 
longs, and  his  uniform  refusal  to  accept  them. 
He  was  chosen  a  member  of  Congress,  under  the 
old  or  first  confederation — a  member  of  the  Con- 
vention which  formed  the  present  Constitution— 
and  of  the  State  Convention  which  ratified  that 
Constitution — and  of  the  first  Congress  after  it  was 
put  into  operation.  He  was  appointed  Attorney- 
General  and  Judge  of  Probate,  all  which,  against, 
in  many  instances,  the  urgent  entreaties  of  his 
friends,  and  so  as  sometimes  to  excite  their  resent- 
ment at  his  obstinacy,  he  resolutely  declined. 
This  can  be  accounted  for  on  no  other  principle 
than  that  which  has  been  repeatedly  mentioned  ; 
his  extreme  aversion  to  public  life,  and  equal  fond 

34 


266 

ness  for  domestic  peace ;  the  enjoyment  of  which 
appears  to  have  been  his  first  object  through  every 
stage  of  life.  His  conduct,  although  a  mystery  to 
others,  is  none  to  those  who  are  intimate  with  him 
and  can  enter  into  his  feelings.  It  produced  the 
effect  which  mighl  be  supposed,  and  which  indeed 
it  was  designed  to  produce.  When  men  are  dis- 
posed to  forsake  the  world  and  refuse  its  honours, 
on  which  men  set  so  high  a  value,  they  are  taken 
at  their  word,  and  are  forsaken  by  the  world.  My 
brother  will  therefore  in  future  be  left  to  enjoy  his 
domestic  repose,  unmolested  by  solicitations  to 
public  office  ;  and  there  are  few  men  either  better 
qualified  or  better  accommodated  to  enjoy  *'otiiim 
cum  dignitate,''^  than  he  is.  He  possesses  all 
the  means  of  happiness  so  far  as  is  compatible 
with  the  imperfection  of  the  present  state,  and  a 
mind  disposed  suitably  to  appreciate  and  improve 
them.  After  all,  happiness  is  a  ment^-l  quality  ; 
of  which,  those  who  possess  the  greatest  means, 
do  not  always  enjoy  the  greatest  share.  We  may 
be  deprived  of  it,  and  rendered  extremely  misera- 
ble, without  any  fault  of  our  own,  by  some  of  those 
mental  derangements,  which,  as  they  arise  from 
disorders  of  the  body,  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  tlie 
strongest  mind  to  control.  If  then  we  possess  a 
tranquil,  quiet  and    happy  temper  of  mind,  let  us 


267 

piously  impute  it  to  the  distinguisliing  goodness 
of  that  wise,  paternal  Being  who  regulates  the  mo- 
tion of  every  fibre  of  onr  frames,  and  will  finally 
attune  them  to  sing  his  praise  from  a  conscious- 
ness of  our  own  happiness. 

From  the  very  great  aversion  whic!)  he  felt  to 
public  business,  and  wish  for  a  more  still  and  quiet 
life,  than  consisted  with  his  attending  on  courts 
and  the  practice  of  law,  he  was,  in  the  year  1796, 
induced  to  give  up  his  business,  although  at  that 
time  exceedingly  lucrative.  As  he  supposed  him- 
self possessed  of  a  moderate  competency,  which 
bounded  his  wishes  with  respect  to  property,  this 
was  to  him  an  easy  sacrifice,  and  was  agreeable  to 
his  uniform  declaration,  ''  that  he  never  would  be 
rich.-'  Bat  some  untoward  circumstances  which 
took  place  at  this  time,  rendered  it  necessary  for 
bim  to  resume  his  business,  at  least  for  a  few  years 
longer.  He  did  so  accordingly  the  following  year, 
and  continued  to  pursue  it  until  1805,  when  he 
gave  it  up,  and  I  believe  finally  took  his  leave  of 
the  court,  with  which  he  had  been  intimately  con- 
nected for  more  than  30  years ;  and  for  many  of 
the  members  of  which  he  entertained  a  sincere 
affection.  The  parting,  as  he  observed  to  me,  was 
attended  with  some  degree  of  painful  regret.  It 
is  disagreeable,   it  is   painful,  to  relinquish  lung 


268 

established  habits,  or  to  break  connexions  which 
have  been  confirmed  by  many  years  intercourse  ; 
although  there  may  be  some  circumstances  attend- 
ing those  habits  and  connexions  which  are  not 
perfectly  pleasing.  But  this  sacrifice  was  neces- 
sary to  the  accomplishment  of  his  great  object  as 
already  mentioned,  and  has,  I  trust,  effectually 
removed  every  obstacle  to  the  peace  and  quiet  of 
the  evening  of  life  on  which  he  has  now  entered. 
August  23d,  1803,  he  was  deprived  by  her 
death  of  the  object  of  his  early  affections — the  wife, 
endeared  to  him  from  the  many  amiable  qualities 
which  she  possessed,  and  from  the  many  years 
which  they  had  spent  together,  in  the  most  inter- 
esting and  endearing  of  all  relations.  For  eight 
or  nine  years  previous  to  her  death,  she  had  been 
afflicted  with  a  paralysis,  which,  from  its  com- 
mencement, rendered  her,  in  a  great  measure, 
helpless ;  and  for  some  years  before  her  death, 
reduced  her  to  a  state  of  infantile  weakness,  both 
in  body  and  mind.  Thus  the  object  which  used 
to  be  the  most  pleasing  to  him,  must  be  viewed 
with  the  most  painful  impressions.  The  case  was 
hopeless,  and  the  affliction  could  only  be  alleviat- 
ed by  great  submission  to  an  all-disposing  Provi- 
dence ;  and  no  man  could  submit  to  a  dispensation 
in  its  nature  so  distressing,  with  greater  apparent 


269 

propriety,  than  the  afflicted  husband.  He  was 
himself  her  companion  and  nurse ;  his  affection 
seemed  to  increase  with  the  increase  of  her  disor- 
der, and  his  time  and  attention  were,  in  a  great 
measure,  devoted  to  relieve  her  distress,  so  far  as 
it  was  capable  of  relief,  from  the  assiduous,  kind 
and  affectionate  attentions  of  friendship.  But  alas  ! 
how  little  can  the  warmest  affections  do  in  many 
cases  of  this  kind  towards  relieving  the  sufferings 
of  those  who  are  dearest  to  our  hearts,  and  whose 
sufferings  affect  us  more  painfully  than  they  would 
even  if  endured  in  our  own  persons.  An  observa- 
tion which  my  brother  made  to  me  when  convers- 
ing on  this  subject  £  think  worth  recording,  as  it  is 
proper  that  every  person  that  sustains  social  rela- 
tions— which  is  the  case  with  all  in  a  nearer  or 
more  remote  sense — should  have  it  much  in  mind, 
viz.  that  for  our  own  sake,  as  well  as  theirs,  we 
should  be  careful  to  discharge  every  kind  office 
towards  our  friends  ;  as  the  recollection  of  our  con- 
duct in  this  respect  must  produce  either  exquisite 
pleasure,  or  pain  in  our  own  breasts,  when  a  sepa- 
ration has  taken  place.  No  man  I  believe  has  a 
belter  claim  to  consolation  from  this  source  than 
the  subject  of  this  memoir,  as  no  man  could  be 
more  affectionately  attentive  than  he  was  to  his  de- 
parted companion.     He  bore  this,  as  he  had  every 


270 

former  affliction,  with  a  calm  and  steady  mind, 
although  aifeeted,  he  was  a  silent,  not  a  complain- 
ing mcnrner.  For  about  three  years  he  continued 
siagle  ;  a  considerable  part  of  which  time  he  con- 
sumed in  visiting  his  friends  in  di^Terent  parts  of 
the  country,  and  I  was  in  particular,  indulged  with 
more  of  his  company  than  I  had  enjoyed  for  some 
preceding  years,  and  during  this  time  I  also  made 
him  a  visit,  and  spent  five  or  six  weeks  very 
agreeably  at  his  house,  although  my  extreme  in- 
disposition was  a  great  drawback  on  every  social 
enjoyment.  With  peace  of  mind,  and  patient 
submission  to  the  order  of  Providence,  even  the 
sick  man  may  be  said  to  enjoy  himself ;  but  it  is 
rather  consolation  under  suffering,  than  positive 
good,  which  he  enjoys  ;  even  tliis  is  a  great  acqui- 
sition, for  which  i  owe  my  grateful  acknowledg- 
ments to  the  Author  of  all  good.  My  brother  was 
far  from  being  happy  in  a  single  state.  In  a  coun- 
try village  there  could  be  but  few  with  whom  he 
could  associate  with  pleasure  :  and  iiad  it  been 
otherwise,  his  chief  enjoyment,  from  constitution 
and  habit,  had  been  in  retirement  at  home  ;  to  ren- 
der this  complete,  he  needed,  and  has,  1  trust,  at 
length  found  an  agreeable  companion.  September 
3d,  1806,  he  was  married  to  a  lady  by  the  name 
of  Gordon,  the   widow  of  William  Gordon,  Esq. 


271 

and  daughter  of  a  Mr.  Atherton,  of  Amherst,  'New 
Hampshire.  1  have  never  as  yet  had  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  this  lady,  but  if  I  may  credit  universal 
report,  she  is  well  qualified,  uncommonly  so,  for 
all  the  endearments  of  domestic  life,  and  to  render 
the  married  state  as  happy  as  is  compatible  with 
that  imperfection,  which  more  or  less  cleaves  to, 
and  is  inseparable  from  every  thing,  every  person, 
and  every  condition  in  the  present  world. 

Thus  have  I  endeavoured  to  recollect,  and  set 
down  what  appeared  to  me  most  interesting,  either 
in  the  character  of  this  worthy  brother,  or  the 
events  of  his  life.  1  hope  he  will  himself  give 
them  more  at  length.  The  probability  is,  that  his 
life  from  this  time  will  be  very  uniform,  and  at- 
tended with  but  few  changes.  It  can  hardly 
change  for  the  better,  and  I  cannot  form  a  more 
benevolent  prayer  for  these  good  relatives,  than 
that  they  may  be  indulged  with  the  enjoyment  of 
their  present  happiness  for  many  years,  and  that 
it  shall  terminate  only  with  the  joys  of  heaven.*' 

After  this  memoir  was  written  Benjamin  lived 
at  his  beautiful  and  rural  seat  in  Charlcstown, 
Xew  Hampshire,  until  the  27th  of  July,  1817, 
when  he  died.  Samuel  died  more  than  nine  years 
before,  April  10,  1808. 


272 

There  is  something  sacred  in  those  hours  which 
a  wise  man  devotes  to  prepare  himself  for  eternity, 
— his  wishes  bounded,  his  business  with  his  fellow 
men  all  adjusted,  he  is  then  ready  to  walk  with 
God  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  the  heat  and  burthen 
of  it  being  over.  The  setting  sun  of  life  shines 
milder  as  it  goes  down,  and  the  coming  night  of 
the  grave  loses  all  its  horrors  from  that  strong  faith 
which  looks  beyond  it. 


ri-1 


IHE  COOKES. 


THE  history  of  the  two  Elisha  Cookes,  is 
interwoven  with  that  of  the  colony  at  the  period 
in  which  they  lived.  Elisha,  '^The  fatlier," 
early  in  life  took  a  deep  interest  in  public  affairs, 
and  at  the  time  of  the  charter  dispute  in  1680,  was 
the  leader  of  the  popular  party  in  the  Greneral 
Court.  They  were  opposed  to  sending  agents  to 
England,  to  submitting  to  acts  of  trade,  and  were 
for  adhering  to  the  old  charter,  according  to  its 
practical  construction.  "  The  ill-concealed  joy,'' 
of  the  people  of  Massachusetts  at  the  fate  of 
Charles  I.  was  not  forgotten  by  his  son,  and  in 
1676  Edward  Randolph  was  sent  over  with 
"  Enquiries"  concerning  the  state  of  the  colonies. 
This  man  was  an  active  and  implacable  enemy  of 
New  England.  In  February,  1681,  he  exhibited 
to  the  lords  of  the  council,  articles  of  '^  high  mis- 
demeanor against  a  faction  of  the  General  Court," 
among  whom  was  Elisha  Cooke.  In  May,  1681, 
in  a  letter  to  the  bishop  of  London,  he  says  "If 
commanded,  I  will  readily  pass  the  seas  to  attend 

35 


274 

at  Whitehall,  especially  if  Danforth,  Gookiss 
and  NowELL,  magistrates,  and  Cooke,  Hutchin- 
son and  Fisher,  members  of  their  late  General 
Court,  be  sent  for  to  appear  before  his  majesty." 
In  1682  he  wrote  to  the  earl  of  Clarendon — 
"  His  majesty's  quo  warranto  against  their  char- 
ter, and  sending  for  Thomas  Danforth,  Samuel 
NowELL,  a  late  factious  preacher,  and  now  a  mag- 
istrate, and  Daniel  Fisher  and  Elisha  Cooke, 
deputies,  to  attend  and  answer  the  articles  of  high 
misdemeanors,  1  have  now  exhibited  against  them, 
will  make  the  whole  faction  tremble."  The  mis- 
representations of  Randolph,  aided  by  others — 
for  the  colony  had  its  enemies  from  the  beginning — 
made  such  impression,  that  the  agents  considered 
the  situation  of  Massachusetts  as  desperate.  It 
now  became  a  question  whetlier  it  was  advisable 
to  submit  and  surrender  the  charter  at  once,  or  to 
refuse,  and  suffer  a  quo  warranto  to  issue  against 
them.  Many  colonies  and  city  corporations  had 
submitted.  The  principal  clergymen  were  con- 
sulted according  to  ancient  usage,  and  their  opin- 
ions were  against  submission.  Tiie  clergy  in  New 
England,  commonly  called  ministers,  were  always 
the  firm  supporters  of  the  rights  of  the  colony 
against  the  arbitrary  claims  of  the  mother  country. 
The   General   Court   resolved   not   to   surrender. 


275 

thinking  it  better  <^^  to  die  by  tlie  bands  of  others 
than  their  own/'  and  the  agents  were  instructed 
^^  to  make  no  concessions  of  any  privileges  confer- 
red upon  the  colony  by  the  charter."  Upon  re- 
ceiving this  resolution  of  the  General  Court,  a  quo 
warranto  was  issued,  and  sent  over  by  Randolph, 
the  evil  genius  of  Massachusetts,  and  at  the  same 
time  it  was  declared  by  the  king,  that  if  the  colony 
before  prosecution  would  make  full  submission 
and  entire  resignation  to  his  pleasure,  no  further 
alterations  should  be  made  in  the  charter,  than 
should  be  necessary  for  the  support  of  his  govern- 
ment. The  Governor  and  majority  of  assistants, 
despairing  of  a  successful  defence,  passed  a  vote 
of  submission.  This  vi^as  acted  upon  by  the  House 
as  follows  : — 

^- Nov.  30,  1683,  The  Deputies  consent  not, 
but  adhere  to  their  former  bills. 

William  Torrey,  Cleric. 

The  issue  is  well  known,  judgment  was  obtaiued 
against  the  colony,  and  the  charter  decreed  to  be 
forfeited.  In  all  these  measures  Cooke  took  a 
leading  part.  In  1685  and  1686  he  was  elioscn 
assistant  in  the  place  of  one  who  had  voted  for  sub- 
mission. 

The  government  being  now  dissolved,  a  com- 
mission was  sent  to  Joseph  Dudley,  as  president;, 


276 

and  several  others  as  his  council.     The  General 
Court  unanimously  refused  to  assent.     The  gov- 
ernment was  conducted  principally  according  to 
the  usages  of  the  colony  under  the  old  charter, 
until   the   arrival  of  the   arbitrary   Andross,   Iq 
1686.     His  conduct  went  far  towards  justifying 
the  jealousy  which  the  people  had  entertained  of 
their   charter   rights.     James   II.  who  appointed 
him,  vested  him  and  his  council  with  all  powers 
executive  and  legislative.     Randolph  was  prime 
minister,  licenser  of  the  press,  secretary,  &c.  They 
laid  what  taxes  they  pleased,   and   punished  with 
severity  such  as  refused  obedience,  and  this  was 
then  complained  of  by  the  people  as  their  greatest 
grievance.     "  They  thouglit  themselves  entitled  to 
the  liberties   and  immunities  of  free  and  natural 
boru  English  subjects,  and  that  consequently,  no 
money  ought  to  be  raised  from  them  but  by  their 
representatives."     He  declared  all  titles  to  estates 
to  be  forfeited,  and  that  the  soil  had   reverted  to 
the  crown. 

This  people,  hitherto  free,  were  now  subjected 
to  the  rigour  of  despotism.  They  were  told  by 
judges  on  the  bench,  that  the  only  privilege  left 
them,  '*  was  not  be  sold  as  slaves,  and  that  the 
benefit  of  the  laws  of  England  did  not  follow  them 
to  the  ends   of  the  earth.''  "(Minot's   Hist.   55.) 


277 

The  utmost  alarm  was  excitetl,  and  Mr.  In- 
crease Mather  departed  secretly,  to  represent 
their  grievances  to  the  king — but  all  exertions 
were  in  vain.  Opposition  by  force  would  have 
been  hopeless,  but  there  was  universal  restless- 
ness and  indignation  among  the  people.  The 
smothered  flame  was  silently  spreading,  and  gain- 
ing strength,  when  upon  a  rumour  of  the  landing 
of  the  Prince  of  Orange  it  burst  forth — the  Gover- 
nor with  the  most  active  of  his  council,  and  other 
obnoxious  persons  were  seized,  and  the  old  magis- 
trates restored.  This  is  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able events  in  our  history.  It  was  a  bold,  and 
perhaps  rash  attempt,  and  shews  how  much  our 
ancestors  could  hazard  in  the  cause  of  liberty. 
Had  the  news  proved  false,  or  the  revolution  in 
England  failed  of  success,  it  would  have  been 
fatal  to  the  principal  persons  engaged,  among 
whom  was  Cooke.  But  they  felt  that  they  were 
oppressed,  and  did  not  deliberate  cooly  upon  the 
danger  of  their  undertaking — this  might  have  pre- 
vented the  attempt,  as  it  would  perhaps  that  of 
their  descendants  in  1775. 

Cooke,  with  the  aged  Gov.  Bradstreet — whom 
it  was  thought  prudent  to  place  at  their  head — and 
others,  demanded  '^  the  surrender  of  the  govern- 
ment and  the  fortifications,''  which  was  complied 


278 

with.  A  provisional  government  was  then  estab- 
lished,  which  continued  until  certain  information 
was  received  of  the  revolution  in  England,  when 
the  government  went  into  operation  as  under  the 
old  charter.  Sir  Edmund  Axdross  and  the  others 
who  had  been  confined  were  ordered  to  England, 
and  the  General  Court  resolved  to  send  over  two 
additional  agents  to  support  the  charges  against 
them,  and  to  solicit  the  restoration  of  the  charter. 
Cooke  and  Thomas  Oakes  were  chosen,  both  of 
them  assistants.  Hutchinson  (1  vol.  p.  349)  says, 
^^Mr.  Cooke  had  always  stiffly  adhered  to  the  old 
charter,  and  when  all  the  rest  of  the  assistants  de- 
clined reassumiug  it,  he  alone  was  in  favour  of  it.'' 

We  shall  see  tiiat  he  preserved  his  consistency 
in  his  adherence  to  the  old  charter.  They  were 
instructed  "  to  solicit  in  parliament,  or  elesewhere, 
the  confirmation  of  their  ancient  charter,  and  all 
its  rights  and  privileges,  civil  and  sacred.'' 

The  charges  against  Anduoss  were  brought  be- 
fore the  privy  council,  but  were  soon  dismissed, 
owing  to  some  disagreement  among  the  agents,  and 
to  the  course  recommended  by  their  counsel.  Nor 
were  they  successful  in  the  principal  object  of  their 
mission,  the  restoration  of  the  old  charter.  When 
it  was  found  impossible  to  obtain  this,  the  other 
agents  (Sir  H.  Asiihurst,  Mather  and  Oakes) 


279 

petitioned  for  a  new  one,  bat  Cooke  refused. 
Even  in  the  presence  of  tlie  king,  when  a  new  one 
was  proposed,  his  brief  and  energetic  reply  was, 
^^May  it  please  your  majesty — the  old  charter  or 
none."  When  the  new  charter  was  first  present- 
ed  to  them,  Mr.  Mather  declared  that  he  would 
rather  part  with  his  life  than  consent  to  it.  They 
remonstrated — but  in  vain.  The  only  question 
then  was,  whether  they  would  submit  to  the  new 
settlement,  or  have  no  charter.  Cooke  continued 
firm  to  his  principles — "  The  old  charter  or  none." 
He  claimed  it  as  a  right;  that  it  had  been  unjustly 
taken  away,  and  ought  to  be  restored.  He  did  not 
act  with  the  other  agents  in  any  measures  for  ob- 
taining a  new  charter,  but  refused  to  accept  it.  Sir 
William  Phipps,  who  was  appointed  governor, 
brought  it  over,  it  was  accepted  by  the  General 
Court,  and  went  quietly  into  operation.  The  old 
charter  party  continued  many  years,  but  gradually 
disappeared,  as  the  people  became  accustomed  to 
the  new. 

Cooke  was  left  out  of  the  Council  named  in  the 
charter,  but  was  chosen  at  the  first  election  under 
it,  1693  ;  a  proof  of  the  approbation,  by  the  Gen- 
eral Court,  of  his  conduct  in  England.  He  was 
however  rejected  by  governor  Phipps,  because  he 
had  opposed  his   appointment.     Hutchinson  says 


280 

'^  the  rejection  was  impolitic,  because  he  was  ia 
real  esteem  with  the  people/'  and  that  "  it  made 
him  many  enemies  even  among  those  who  had  not 
opposed  the  acceptance  of  the  mw  charter." 

Upon  the  removal  of  governor  Phipps  in  1694, 
the  election  of  Cooke  to  the  Council  was  approved 
by  the  Lieut.  Gov.  Stoughton,  and  he  continued 
there  during  the  four  years  of  his  administration, 
and  also  during  the  administration  of  the^earl  of 
Bellamont,  with  whom  he  had  corresponded  be- 
fore his  arrival  in  Massachusetts. 

Governor  Dudley  had  not  forgotten  that  Cooke 
was  one  of  those  who  committed  him  to  prison 
with  Andross,  fifteen  years  before,  and  he  struck 
his  name  from  the  list  of  the  council.  Hutchinson 
says— 

"  With  governor  Dudley  began  the  memorable 
controversy  concerning  fixed  salaries.  It  was  un- 
fortunate, that  the  subject  was  introduced  by  him, 
as  the  prejudices  against  him  were  great.  He  had 
been  president  of  the  Council  under  Andross,  and 
one  of  his  principal  advisers.  He  had  been  op- 
posed to  the  restoration  of  the  old  charter,  and  was 
generally  considered  as  an  enemy  even  to  the  privi- 
leges of  the  new.  The  people  were  not  disposed 
to  establish  an  honourable  salary  for  him.  Cooke 
was  the  leader  of  the  opposition,  and  the  governor 


281 

persisted  ia  negativing  him  until  1715^  when  he 
was  expecting  his  removal  from  oflBce.  Doctor 
Cooke  died  the  same  year,  October  31st,  aged 
seventy-eight. 

He  was  respected  as  a  pliysician,  hut  most  re- 
markable in  his  political  character,  having  been 
more  than  forty  years  in  places  of  public  trust,  and 
always  firm  and  steady  in  his  principles.  He  was 
a  singular  instance  of  a  popular  leader  preserving 
his  influence  with  the  people,  without  diminution. 
He  was  always  a  favourite,  and  perhaps  because 
he  was  never  a  demagogue.  Popularity  was  not 
his  object.  He  was  firm,  honest,  and  consistent 
in  his  principles  and  conduct,  and  that  popularity 
which  he  never  run  after,  followed  him. 

ELISHA,  the  son,  also  a  physician,  was  an 
infiuential  member  of  the  House,  before  the  death 
of  his  father.  lu  1714,  the  Province  was  in  sreat 
agitation  from  the  state  of  the  currency.  Various 
projects  were  formed  for  relief,  among  others  a 
private  bank,  at  the  head  of  which  was  Cooke. 
The  plan  was  to  form  an  association,  which  should 
issue  bills,  for  the  payment  of  which  real  estate 
was  to  be  pledged  as  security.  Political  economy 
was  not  then  known  as  a  science,  and  the  system 
of  banking  but  little  understood. 


36 


282 

The  controversy  in  which  the  father  had  passed 
bis  days  was  inherited  by  the  son.     Gov.  Siiute 
was  tlie  object  of  his  hostility  as  Dudley  had  been 
of  his  father.     Shute  found  Cooke  in  the  Coun- 
cil.   The  expression  of  some  opinions — for  he  was 
a  fair  and  open  enemy — soon  gave  offence  to  the 
Governor,    who   procured   his   removal  from   the 
oflBce  of  Clerk  of  the  Supreme  Court.     A  contest 
arose  about  the  same  time  between  the  king's  sur- 
veyor and  the  inhabitants  of  Maine,  concerning 
the  property  in  white  pine  trees,  in  which   Cooke 
took  a  part,  published  a  pamphlet,  and  sent  a  me- 
morial to  the  General  Court.     The  surveyor  also 
sent  his  memorial.     Cooke  had  great  influence  in 
the  House,  and  this  dispute  was  the  beginning  of 
the  public  controversy,  which  continued  unlil  the 
end    of    SiiUTE-s   administration ;— parlies    were 
formed,  new  subjects  of  contention  arose,  until  at 
length  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw  from  the  Pro- 
vince.    At  the  next  election  of  the  Council,  the 
governor   rejected    Cooke — the    House   took    his 
part  warmly,  and  condemned   the  proceedings   of 
the  surveyor.     In  1719,  such  was  the  contention 
between  the  governor  and  the  House,  that  he  dis- 
solved the  Assembly. 

Gov.  Hutchinson   says  that  the  contests  and 
disscntions   were  greater  in   1720,  than  they  had 


283 

been  since  the  religious  feuds  of  1636.  Cooke 
was  chosen  speaker — the  governor  negatived  him 
and  requested  the  House  to  reconsider  tiie  subject 
and  elect  another  person,  and  after  debate  the 
House  voted  unanimously  to  adhere  to  their  first 
election.  Several  messages  passed  between  them, 
and  the  governor  again  dissolved  the  House.  A 
new  Assembly  was  called,  and  it  being  necessary 
to  proceed  with  the  public  business,  the  House, 
— with  an  express  reservation  of  right — chose  Tim- 
othy LiNDALL  of  Salem,  speaker,  a  man  of  the 
same  party,  but  not  so  obnoxious  to  the  governor 
as  Cooke. 

The  controversy  concerning  the  governor's  sal- 
ary was  also  continued.  The  grants  had  been 
made  semi-annually,  but  they  were  novi^  not  only 
reduced  in  amount,  but  delayed  beyond  the  usual 
time.  Instead  of  an  established  salary  of  £lOOO, 
which  he  was  instructed  to  demand,  he  was  reduc- 
ed to  less  than  £400,  and  that  depending  on  occa- 
sional grants.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  enlarge 
on  this  most  memorable  and  unhappy  contest, 
which  became  open  and  general.  Whatever  the 
Governor  recommended  the  House  disregarded  ; 
frequent  communications  were  made  from  one  to 
the  other,  but  the  difficulty  increased,  until  the 
governor  withdrew  from  the  Province  in  Dec.  1722. 


284 

The  controversy  was  not  perhaps  strictly  jus- 
tifiable on  the  part  of  the  House,  at  least  in  the 
extent  to  which  it  was  carried,  but  it  was  com- 
menced by  Shute,  in  his  negativing  Cooke's 
election  to  the  Council,  and  as  speaker  from  per- 
sonal prejudice. 

Articles  of  complaint  were  exhibited  by  gover- 
nor Shute  against  the  House  for  encroaching  on 
his  Majesty's  prerogative,  in  seven  instances. — 
After  much  altercation  between  the  Council  and 
the  House,  is  was  agreed  to  send  over  an  agent, 
and  Dr.  Cooke  was  chosen  by  joint  vote.  Soon 
after  his  arrival  in  England,  Shute  exhibited  an- 
other memorial,  complaining  among  other  things, 
of  their  choosing  him  as  agent,  '^  who  had  been  at 
the  head  of  all  the  measures  complained  of  in  the 
first  memorial."  Nor  did  the  Council  escape  his 
censure  for  consenting  to  choose  the  agent  by  joint 
ballot,  ^^  in  which  mode  they  must  have  known 
Mr.  Cooke  would  be  chosen."  Divers  hearings 
were  had,  but  the  decision  was  unfavourable  to  the 
House,  and  ended  in  the  explanatory  charter  of 
1724,  declaring  the  right  of  the  governor  to  nega- 
tive the  speaker,  and  limiting  tlie  power  of  the 
House  to  adjourn  tliemselves,  to  two  days. 

The  House  approved  of  Mr.  Cs.  conduct, 
though  unsuccessful,  and  again  chose  him  into  the 


285 

Council.  The  pacific  Lieut.  Grov.  Dummer  ap- 
proved of  the  choice. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  Cooke  and  his  associ- 
ates, after  experiencing  the  ill  success  of  the  con- 
troversy with  Shute,  should  have  been  desirous 
of  more  tranquillity  under  his  successor.  Oov. 
JBuRNET  resided  at  his  house  on  his  first  arrival, 
and  the  commencement  of  his  administration  seem- 
ed auspicious,  but  in  his  first  speech,  the  governor 
began  upon  the  subject  of  a  fixed  salary.  The 
contest  was  again  renewed — its  character  was 
changed — it  became  less  personal  and  more  argu- 
mentative, and  was  conducted  with  great  spirit 
and  ability  on  both  sides.  On  the  part  of  the 
House  it  was  principally  managed  by  Cooke. — 
The  governor  tried  the  expedient  of  removing  the 
General  Court  to  Salem,  but  it  ouly  increased  the 
difficulty  by  adding  another  subject  of  contention. 
Gov.  Burnet  died  in  1729. 

Gov.  Belcher  who  succeeded  to  the  chair,  had 
once  been  on  the  prerogative  side,  but  had  recently 
been  in  favour  with  the  Province.  Both  parties 
were  now  wearied  with  the  long  continued  contro- 
versy, and  endeavoured  to  devise  some  plan  of 
conciliation.  For  this  purpose  Cooke  drew  a  bill 
granting  £1000,  and  urging  for  special  reasons 
that  it  should  be  continued  during  his  administra- 


286 

tion,  and  providing  that  it  should  not  be  pleaded 
as  a  precedent ;  it  was  approved  hy  the  governor, 
but  did  not  pass  into  a  law.  This  was  the  first 
event  in  his  life  which  had  even  the  appearance  of 
inconsistency,  or  lessened  the  confidence  of  the 
people  in  him.  They  are  always  ready  to  take 
the  alarm,  and  become  jealous  of  their  favourites, 
but  the  father  and  son  had  preserved  the  popular 
favour  more  than  six'y  years.  Now  he  was  accus- 
ed of  seeking  the  good  opinion  of  the  governor, 
and  obtained  his  election  as  representative  by  a 
majority  of  one  or  two  votes  only. 

The  governor  despairing  of  obtaining  a  fixed 
salary,  at  length,  in  1733,  procured  his  majesty's 
permission  to  receive  such  grants  as  should  be 
made — and  thus  ended  that  great  controversy,  the 
most  memorable  and  interesting  in  our  colonial 
history.  It  had  continued  nearly  half  a  century, 
and  been  maintained  with  unyielding  constancy  by 
the  Province,  against  the  instructions  of  the  king. 
These  events  are  regarded  by  many  with  little 
interest,  as  the  passing  afl'airs  of  a  little  colony,  at 
a  remote  period,  without  perceiving  their  bearing 
on  the  present  state  of  the  country.  But  their  in- 
fluence upon  the  revolution  was  very  important,  as 
the  people  were  in  this  way  accustomed  to  support 
their  rights,  however  unequal  the  contest;  and  be- 


287 

earne  trained  for  the  great  controversies  that  suc- 
ceeded. The  refusal  to  grant  a  fixed  salary  was 
supported  by  many  of  the  arguments,  which  were 
afterwards  used  against  the  right  of  taxing  the 
colonies.  These  early  contests  were  the  germ  of 
the  revolution.  The  character  of  the  people  was 
formed — they  were  disciplined  to  a  love  of  liberty, 
and  resistance  to  encroachments  on  their  rights 
and  privileges.  In  the  old  charter  disputes,  we 
see  the  same  spirit,  which  afterwards  hazarded  all 
for  charter  privileges  in  1775.  While  then  we 
value  our  civil  liberty,  and  our  independence,  we 
should  hold  in  grateful  remembrance  the  early 
patriots  of  our  country — such  men  as  the  first 
Cooke,  who  would  have  this  infant  colony  make 
^^  no  concession  of  any  privileges  conferred  by  the 
charter,"  and  who  would  say,  even  in  the  royal 
presence,  ^^the  old  charter,  or  none!"  Had  he 
taken  counsel  of  prudence  only — perhaps  even  of 
good  policy,  he  would  have  yielded ;  but  who 
does  not  admire  that  adherence  to  truth  and  jus- 
tice, "  leaving  the  event  to  Providence  ?"  It  is 
not  easy  to  foresee  the  consequences  of  yielding  a 
principle.  Had  our  ancestors  conceded  in  the  early 
contests  with  the  crown,  it  is  not  probable  they 
would  have  resisted  the  moderate  taxes  which 
were  afterwards  laid,  and  which  seemed  for  the 


288 


purpose  of  establishing  a  precedent;,  ratber  tbaa 


raising  a  revenue. 


The  discriminating  Eliot,  in  bis  Biographical 
Dictionary,  remarks,  that  "  Hutchinson,  though 
the  great  friend  to  Dudley,  Burnet,  and  other 
governors  on  the  side  of  prerogative,  uniformly 
gives  praise  to  the  Cookes.  He  says  they  were 
both  fair,  honest  men,  open  in  their  conduct,  and 
acted  from  a  love  to  their  country.  It  is  some 
credit  to  him  as  an  historian,  that  he  should  de- 
lineate so  fairly  the  characters  of  men,  who  cer- 
tainly were  the  most  zealous  republicans,  that  ever 
acted  their  parts  in  Massachusetts  Bay."  They 
were  men  of  ardent  feelings — formidable  enemies 
— but  always  frank,  honourable  and  undisguised. 
They  were  men  of  strong,  inflexible  character,  of 
great  energy  of  mind,  and  consistent  in  their  poli- 
tical conduct,  and  should  hold  a  high  rank  among 
American  patriots.  Nor  should  we  neglect  to 
notice,  that  in  private  and  domestic  life,  they  were 
wild,  amiable  and  affectionate.  The  compiler  of 
this  sketch  remembers  to  have  heard  an  aged 
person,  who  had  the  best  means  of  information, 
say,  that  the  last  Elisha  Cooke  left  all  contro- 
versy at  the  threshhold  of  his  habitation,  and  that 
at  home  he  was  the  beloved  liusbaud,  father  and 
friend. 


289 

Elisha  was  the  son  of  Richard  Cooke^  who 
came  from  Quedsley,  in  Gloucestershire,  in  1634, 
and  was  a  merchant  in  Boston.  He  left  a  legacy 
of  £50  to  Harvard  college.  His  only  child,  Eli- 
sha, was  born  November  16,  1637,  and  graduated 
at  Cambridge  in  1657.  He  married  a  daughter 
of  Governor  Leverett.  Elisha,  his  only  son, 
was  born  December  20,  1678,  and  graduated  in 
1697.  He  married  a  daughter  of  Richard  Mid- 
DLECOTT,  Esq.  one  of  the  council  appointed  in  the 
second  charter. 

Middlecott,  his  only  son,  graduated  in  1723. 
The  contest  in  which  the  lives  of  his  father  and 
grandfather  were  passed,  excited  a  disinclination 
to  public  life  in  him.  He  took  but  little  interest 
in  political  concerns,  and  passed  his  days  in  peace 
and  hospitality,  beloved  and  respected  by  a  circle 
of  friends,  at  the  mansion  of  his  father,^  the  ven- 
erable stone  house  lately  standing  in  front  of  the 
new  Court  House,  Boston.  Middlecott  Cooke 
was  never  married.  A  daughter  of  the  last  Eli- 
sha was  married  to  the  Honourable  Richard 
Saltonstall,  of  Haverhill,  Massachusetts,  whose 
descendants  are  the  only  posterity  of  the  Cookes. 

*  The  frequent  political  meetings  at  that  house,  have  by  some  (the 
late  Dr.  Ben(Ie_y  )  been  supposed  to  be  the  origin  of  the  word  ''  caucus'''' 
—a  corruption  of  "  Cookes  House."     But  see  Pickering's  Vocnbuliry, 

37 


SULLIVAN. 


THE  name  of  Sullivan  is  famous  in  our  his- 
tory. Governor  Sullivan  was  a  distinguished 
civilian ;  his  brother,  General  Sullivan,  a  cele- 
brated warrior  in  the  American  revolution. 

In  the  cause  of  their  country,  when  the  prospect 
was  dark  and  uncertain,  and  the  hearts  of  many 
wise  and  virtuous  men  failed,  these  two  brothers, 
in  the  often  perverted,  but  emphatieal  language  of 
the  declaration  of  independence,  "  pledged  their 
lives,  their  fortunes,  and  their  sacred  honour.'' 
They  continued  true  to  the  holy  determination,  and 
their  sacred  honour  is  contained  in  the  history  of 
their  patriotic  labours. 

It  is  not  in  our  power  to  give  any  new  particu- 
lars of  the  General. — Of  the  Governor,  we  will 
endeavour  to  give  an  account  which,  however  im- 
perfect, sliall  not  be  discreditable  to  his  memory. 

James  Sullivan  was  born  the  22d  of  April, 
•1744,  and  was  the  fourth  son  of  John  Sulli- 
van, who,  about  the  year  1723,  came  from  Ire- 
land, and  settled  at  Berwick,  in  Maine,  and  died 


292 

at  the  extraordinary  age  of  more  than  105  years. 
He  educated  his  son,  who  owed  to  him  all  the 
instruction  which  he  had,  except  in  professional 
science,  and  the  father  lived  to  see  his  brilliant 
success  in  the  world.  Sullivan  was  not  in  his 
youth  devoted  to  learned  pursuits,  but  resided  at 
home,  engaged  in  the  happy  but  obscure  life  of 
agriculture.  In  a  state  of  society  moral  and  in- 
formed, but  not  polished,  his  ambition  had  proba- 
bly never  aimed  at  that  celebrity  which  he  after- 
wards attained.  Here  he  imbibed  republican  les- 
sons, which  he  never  forgot.  He  learned  that 
there  was  virtue  and  merit  where  there  was  little 
wealth  or  splendour ;  and  was  ever  after  attached 
to  the  yeomanry  of  the  country,  and  regarded  them 
as  citizens  on  whom  the  welfare  of  the  commu- 
nity mainly  depended.  He  was  deservedly  their 
favourite,  and  never  deceived  their  confidence.  In 
some  states,  the  people  of  the  humbler  order  are 
averse,  to  the  elevation  of  those  of  their  own 
number,  and  prefer  others  born  of  more  eminent 
families.  It  is  not  so  in  New  England.  A  large 
proportion  of  our  influential  men  proceed  from 
the  common  walks  of  life,  and  feel  for  their 
old  friends  a  respect,  which  those  who  have  al- 
ways lived  in  another  sphere  are  not  so  likely  to 
tutertain. 


293 

An  accident,  which  at  first  forehoded  the  greatest 
evil,  was  the  cause  of  Sullivan's  adopting  the 
profession  of  the  law.     While  felling  a  tree  in  the 
woods,  he  accidentally  received  a  serious  injury 
in  one  of  his  limbs,  from  which  a  long  and  painful 
illness    ensued.     The  consequence   of  this,   was 
lameness  during  the  remainder  of  his  life.     This 
misfortune  kept  him  from  the   army,  in  which  he 
had  determined  to  enter,  and  directed  his  attention 
to  the  profession   of  the  law.     His  talents  fitted 
him  for  the  army,  and  he  would  probably  have 
been   promoted  to  high  military  distinction,  had 
Providence  not   defeated   his   purposes ;    but   he 
could  not  have  been  more  useful  in  military,  than 
he  was  in  civil  life.     His  advantages  for  study  in 
early  life  were  small ;  he   was   not  stimulated  by 
the  competition  of  a  large  seminary,  nor  introduced 
by  the  counsel  and  assistance  of  learned  friends, 
to  that  fruitful  field  of  knowledge  which  is  opened 
in  a  regular  classical  education.     It  may  in  conse- 
quence be  lamented  that  the  early  studies  of  this 
man  of  genius  were  not  differently  conducted,  but 
how  far  our  regret  is  well  founded  cannot  easily 
be  ascertained.     There  is  a  sort  of  culture  which 
acts  unpropitiously  on  the  native  powers.     Inven- 
tion  is    sometimes   retarded    by    the   necessity  of 
plodding  over  what  i<  known,  and  rememberins: 


294 

subjects  disagreeable  to  the  taste  of  the  scholar. 
Fancy,  broken  and  tamed  by  rules,  often  loses  in 
boldness  and  sublimity  of  flight,  what  she  acquires 
in  artificial  correctness.  Public  education  is 
frequently  ill  adapted  to  practical  usefulness, 
and  uusuited  to  the  character  of  the  student. 
Sullivan  escaped  the  dangers  of  servile  iinila- 
tion  j  his  mode  of  speaking  was  his  own,  not  an 
awkward,  unnatural  mimickry  of  a  dull  pattern. 
In  youth,  his  head  was  not  encumbered  with  obso- 
lete lore,  nor  clouded  with  those  thick  mists  of 
polemical  divinity,  which  envelope  many  of  our 
colleges,  and  are  so  unprofitably  mixed  with  their 
whole  management.  He  had  a  philosophical  turn 
of  mind,  which  he  improved  by  exercise  ;  yet  his 
remote  situation  denied  him  the  best  means  of 
furnishing  liis  mind,  and  the  courage  and  success 
with  which  he  met  and  overcame  all  obstacles  can- 
not be  sufficieutlv  admired. 

In  the  study  and  practice  of  the  law  at  that 
period,  there  were  difficulties  which  must  have 
severely  tried  the  fortitude  of  a  beginner,  particu- 
larly of  one  who  came  forward  under  so  many 
disadvantages.  The  elements  were  in  no  fairer 
shape  than  V/ood's  Institutes,  and  Coke's  Com- 
mentary on  Littleton.  The  wheat  was  hid  in  the 
chaif.     Blackstone's  Lectures  were  first  published 


295 

hi  England,  in  1765,  and  could  not  have  been 
much  known  in  this  country  until  some  years  after 
Sullivan  commenced  practice.  There  were  then 
no  Reports,  no  hooks  of  forms  appropriate  to 
our  peculiar  laws  and  practice  ;  which  gave  the 
elder  lawyers,  who  recollected  decisions,  and  had 
precedents  at  command,  a  greater  superiority  over 
the  younger  than  they  now  have.  Sullivan  was 
then  remote  from  the  metropolis,  but  the  splen- 
dour of  his  talents  shone  through  the  darkness  of 
the  wilderness.  He  was  indebted  for  no  part  of 
his  fame  to  adventitious  helps.  He  was  not  like 
Parsons  and  Dana,  trained  by  the  lessons  of 
Trowbridge,  that  ancient  sage  of  the  law  j  yet 
Providence  smiled  on  the  unaided  efforts  of  his 
genius,  and  so  rapid  was  his  rise,  that  before  the 
revolution  he  was  advanced  to  the  rank  of  a 
barrister  in  the  superior  court,  and  appointed 
king's  counsel  for  the  county  in  which  he  resid- 
ed. He  was  destined  to  act  a  higher  part,  and 
though  thus  noticed  by  men  in  power,  was  ready 
to  oppose  their  tyrannical  measures.  The  people 
of  America  were  too  wise  to  permit  the  operation' 
of  a  principle  of  government  radically  wrong 
and  slavish.  They  would  not  endure  an  attempt 
to  take  away  their  property  without  their  con- 
sent. 


296 

Since  the  primitive  days  of  Greece  and  Rome, 
there  have  been   no  such  instances  of  patriotism 
and  self-devotion  as  appeared  in  the  ensuing  war. 
The  people  rose  in  their  strength  and  did  not  rest 
until  they  could  repose  in  independence.     Their 
resistance  was  founded  on  an  enlightened  under- 
standing of  their  rights,  and  was  not  the  ebullition 
of  transient  heat  or  blind  resentment.     The  law- 
yers of  those  days,  generally,  are  entitled  to  dis- 
tinguished praise  for  the  disinterested  part  which 
they  acted.     Many  of   them   stood   so   high    that 
their  course  was   readily  copied  ;   and   had  they 
been  on  the  side  of  the  crown  and  colonial  gover- 
nor, who  had  heaped  on  them  personally  flattering 
distinctions  and   lucrative  offices,   the   opposition 
would   probably  have  been  little  more  than  nerve- 
less and  disastrous  sedition.     It  will  be  admitted 
by  every  one,  who  reflects,  that  they  lost  more  than 
they  gained  in   a  private  view   by  the  change  of 
government.     They  were  in  the  first  ranks  of  the 
community  ;   and  it  has  always  been  the  policy  of 
the  British  executive  to  patronize  liberally  all  men 
whose  influence  may  be  serviceable,  and  to  reward 
them  out  of  the  spoils  of  the  people  with  posts  of 
honour  and   emolument.     Notwithstanding  these 
prospects  before  their  eyes,  they  laboured  at  every 
hazard  to  establish  an  equal,  economical  and  fru- 


297 

gal  republic.  Sullivan's  expectations  of  prefer- 
ment were  great  and  alluring  in  their  nature,  but 
his  lofty  principles  were  not  affected  by  this  temp- 
tation, and  he  determined  to  fall  or  rise  only  iti 
the  cause  of  liberty. 

Our  government  being  representative,  and   all 
measures  decided    by  the   deliberations  of  many, 
the  civil  policy  of  the  country  cannot  be  attributed 
to  the  wisdom  of  one  or  two  individuals  alone.-— 
What  any  one  proposes  is  considered  and  modified 
by  the  counsels  of  others,  and  often  goes  into  effect 
in  quite  a  different  shape  from  that  in  which  it  first 
originated.     In  military  affairs,  unity  of  plan  is 
essential  to  success,   and  if  the  general  advises 
with  his  officers,  his  counsel  is  at  his  own  risk, 
and   to   be  selected   by  his   own  judgment.     The 
credit  of  success  in  war  is  therefore  almost  exclu- 
sively attributed  to  the  commander.     The  respon- 
sibility of  conducting  our  armies  and  preserving 
them  from  destruction  in  the  war  of  independence, 
devolved  on  Washington,  and  the  praise  of  vic- 
tory is  with  justice  ascribed  mostly  to  his  personal 
energy  and  prudence.    So  absolute  princes  receive 
the  honour  of  reforming  civil  institutions  by  their 
own  efforts,  or   by  directing  the  labours  of  states- 
men and  jurists,  to  the  same  end.     For  this  reason 
Justinian  and  Alfred  have  been  celebrated  as  re- 

38 


298 

formers  of  law.     No  one  man  in  this  country  caa 
claim  for  himself  alone,  the  merit  of  framing  our 
constitutions  and  amending  our  laws.     But  Sul- 
livan had  a  large  share  in  the  proceedings  of  the 
government  of  Massachusetts,  at  the  period  of  the 
revolution.     Before    he    had  reached   the   thirty- 
second   year  of  his  age,  he  was  reckoned   among 
the  first  men.     He  was  a  member  of  the  Provincial 
Congress,  and  while  he  belonged  to  that  body  in 
1775,  was  sent  on  a  difficult  commission  to  Ticon- 
deroga  in  company  with  the  Hon.  W.  Spooner  and 
J.  Foster,  for  which  a  vote  of  thanks  was  passed. 
In  1776  he  was  appointed  a  Judge  of  the  Superior 
Court,  with  John  Adams,  William  Cushing  and 
others.     He  had  before  been  appointed   Judge  of 
the  Court  of  Admiralty  erected  for  the  counties  in 
the  District  of  Maine,  but  never  entered  on  the 
duties  of  that  office.     He  assisted  as  a  member  of 
the  Convention  to  form   the  state  constitution,  and 
continued  a  Judge  of  the  Supreme  Judicial  Court 
until  February,  1782,  when   he  resigned  and  re- 
turned to  the  practice  of  the  bar.     In  1783,  he  was 
chosen  by  the  General  Court,  a  delegate  to  repre- 
sent the  State  of  Massachusetts  in  Congress  ;  and 
in   the  ensuing   year   acted   with  John   Lowell 
and  Theophilus  Parsons,  as  a  commissioner  in 
the  settlement  of  the  controversy  then  existing  be- 


299 

tween  the  States  of  Massachusetts  and  New  York, 
concerning  their  respective  claims  to  the  western 
lands. 

He  was  repeatedly  chosen  to  represent  the  town 
of  Boston  in  the  Legislature  ;  in  1787  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  executive  council;  the  same  year  was 
made  Judge  of  Probate  for  the  county  of  SuiTolk, 
and  in  1790  Attorney-General. 

In  1796,  he  M'as  appointed  by  President  Wash- 
ington, a  commissioner  under  the  fifth  article  of  the 
British  treaty,  for  settling  tiie  boundaries  between 
the  United  States  and  the  British  Provinces.  In 
June,  1807,  he  was  called  to  the  chief  magistracy 
of  the  Commonwealth. 

Whoever  considers  the  acknowledged  eminence 
of  the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts,  must  be 
convinced  that  a  lawyer  who  was  called  to  such 
high  trusts,  when  offices  were  not  given  by  favour- 
itism or  party  motives,  must  have  had  unquestion- 
able taleuts,  and  been  an  able  and  successful  ad- 
vocate. 

The  power  of  description  never  fails  more  than 
in  the  attempt  to  convey  an  adequate  conception  of 
the  eloquence  for  which  a  departed  orator  was  ap- 
plauded. Comparing  able  speeches  to  torrents, 
rivers,  cataracts,  fire  and  lightning,  or  to  any  grand 
objects  of  nature,  by  any  analogy  whatever,  rather 


300 

displays  the  aspiring  language  of  eulogium  than 
does  justice  to  the  dead.  Who  that  had  never 
read  the  works  of  ancient  orators  could  receive 
any  competent  idea  of  them  from  the  representa- 
tions made  by  their  admirers  ?  All  that  is  possible 
to  be  told,  may  be  expressed  in  a  few  epithets  that 
Lave  a  definite  meaning  in  the  science  of  rhetoric  j 
and  by  relating  the  time,  the  circumstances,  and, 
as  it  were,  the  scenery  which  gave  effect  to  what 
was  uttered.  The  grace  of  action  irretrievably 
perishes,  aud  the  beauty  of  the  style  can  only  be 
known  by  reading  what  was  delivered.  The  elo- 
quence of  a  great  man  is  seen  through  any  descrip- 
tion, dim,  faint,  and  shorn  of  its  beams. 

All  our  people  read  their  native  language  and 
are  accustomed  on  all  occasions  to  thinking,  in- 
quiry, aud  deliberation.  Their  judgments  are 
commonly  formed  patiently  and  slowly.  From 
theological  books,  to  which  they  are  generally 
much  devoted,  they  acquire  habits  of  investigation 
and  argument  which  they  apply  to  other  subjects. 
They  pay  more  attention  to  the  sound  reasoner, 
boMever  dry,  than  to  the  glowing  images  of  the 
charming  orator,  charming  never  so  wisely.  Or- 
nament, to  suit  them,  must  be  more  after  the  Athe- 
nian than  the  Asiatic  models.  Mansfield  would 
please  them  more  than  Curran  or  Burke.     Sulli- 


301 

VAN  and  Parsons  made  more  impression  than 
Ames.  To  have  a  powerful  sway  with  juries  of 
this  description,  Sullivan  was  obliged  to  study 
their  taste,  and  to  adopt  a  style  of  speaking  accord- 
ing to  their  standard.  Thence  it  happened  that 
his  oratory  like  that  which  prevails  in  New  Eng- 
land, was  solid,  logical  and  correct,  tliough  some- 
-times  he  could  be  figurative,  dazzling  and  bril- 
liant. 

He  had  very  dignified  manners  and  a  command- 
ing person,  v/hich,  when  he  spoke  in  court,  did 
not  appear  to  be   marred   by  his   lameness.     His 
features    were  remarkably  fine,  and    tlie  expres- 
sion intelligent  and  placid.     He  was  always  com- 
posed  and   self-possessed    in    argument,    for   his 
powers  were  not  only  great,  but  ready  for  every 
trial.     The  greatest  lawyers  were  his  antagonists 
at  the   bar,  Dana,  Lowell,  Parsons,  Sewall, 
Gore,  Dexter  and  Otis.     Still   he  sustained  his 
rank,  and  if  not  first,  was  in  the  first  class.     He 
was  as  well  versed  in  special  pleading  and  all  the 
forms  of  practice,  as  in  the  science  of  the  law.     In 
one  of  his  works  he  thus  expresses  his  opinion  on 
the  importance  of  forms.     "  There   is  more  of  the 
substantial    principles    of    justice    depending   on 
forms,  than  men  are  generally  v/illing  to  acknow- 
ledge.   When  forms  are  done  away,  the  substances 


302 

may  remain  ;  but  when  the  forms  are  no  longer 
discerned,  the  difference  between  the  nature  of 
substances  is  soon  lost.  The  dust  of  man,  when 
his  form  ceases  to  appear,  is  not  known  from  the 
dust  of  other  animals.  Established  forms  of  pro- 
cedure, in  the  distribution  of  civil  justice,  serve  to 
bind  the  judge  and  the  magistrate  to  the  path  of 
their  duty,  and  to  chain  the  man  exercising  civil 
authority,  to  the  line  of  his  jurisdiction  ;  because, 
that  through  these,  the  people  are  enabled  to  dis- 
cover each  deviation  from  right,  as  colours  serve 
to  give  the  first  intimation  of  the  nature  of  the  sub- 
stance on  which  they  appear.'* 

The  great  traits  of  his  mind  were  force,  compre- 
hensiveness and  ardour.  Nothing  of  consequence 
in  any  cause  escaped  the  fullness  and  intensity  of 
his  thoughts.  His  arguments  were  clear,  close  and 
strong,  not  calculated  so  much  for  parade  as  to  se- 
cure conviction.  His  voice  was  clear  and  loud,  his 
enunciation  articulate  and  emphatical.  His  tones 
were  adapted  to  the  subject  and  the  audience.  His 
pathos  sometimes  drew  tears  from  those  who  heard 
him.  In  important  cases,  his  addresses  to  juries 
were  well  prepared  and  digested,  and  embraced 
and  illustrated  all  the  topics  of  the  question.  He 
acted  as  Attorney-General  in  the  two  very  interest- 
ing capital  trials  which  have  been  reported.     His 


303 

management  of  each  would  do  honour  to  any  law- 
yer. One  was  the  case  of  Jason  Faiubanks,  who 
in  the  year  1801,  was  convicted  on  circumstantial 
evidence  of  the  murder  of  Miss  Fales.  The 
public  were  violently  agitated  at  the  transaction  ; 
most  were  strongly  impressed  against  the  prisoner, 
but  some  in  his  favour.  The  defence  was  con- 
ducted by  H.  G.  Otis  and  J.  Lowell,  junior. 
Perhaps  facts  were  never  more  adroitly  argued 
than  they  were  on  this  occasion.  The  prisoner's 
counsel  commented  on  the  testimony  with  wonder- 
ful ingenuity.  Sullivan,  the  Attorney-General's 
reply  was  masterly  and  conclusive.  He  remarked 
on  all  the  facts  with  great  ability,  and  met  every 
doubt  and  objection  with  fairness  and  success.  In 
his  speech  were  some  excellent  moral  touches,  and 
the  whole  trial  is,  even  at  this  day,  worthy  of  being 
read  by  every  student  of  law  who  loves  his  profes- 
sion, and  would  wish  to  see  in  how  many  different 
lights  the  same  facts  may  be  presented.  The  ac- 
cused was  a  young  man  of  good  family  and  educa- 
tion, and  twenty-one  years  of  age.  The  deceased 
was  a  reputable  young  lady  of  eighteen. 

The  other  was  the  celebrated  case  of  Selfridge, 
who  was  tried  for  killing  Austin,  which,  from 
party  excitement  at  the  time,  and  the  important 
questions  of  homicide  raised  and  settled  in  it,  was 


304 

known  throughout  the  United  States.  The  report 
of  the  trial  has  circulated  so  extensively  and  been 
so  much  read,  that  it  is  suflBcient  to  refer  to  it.  It 
was  considered  a  specimen  of  the  greatest  legal 
skill  and  learning  on  both  sides,  and  Sullivan 
was  thought  to  have  encountered  the  exceeding 
subtlety  and  deep  research  of  the  defendant's  coun- 
sel, Gore  and  Dexter,  with  a  power  of  argument 
and  illustration  no  way  inferior  to  theirs. 

Sullivan  was  universally  popular  until  he  op- 
posed some  measures  which  were  adopted  soon 
after  the  national  constitution  was  ratified.  The 
parties  which  have  since  divided  the  country  rose 
at  that  time,  though  they  became  more  distinctly 
marked  afterwards.  He  disliked  the  national  bank 
and  was  friendly  to  the  republic  of  France,  until 
the  excesses  of  the  demagogues  there  disappointed 
his  cherished  hopes  for  its  rational  liberty.  In 
these  opinions  he  difi'ered  from  some  of  his  old  and 
esteemed  associates.  The  separation  grew  wider 
and  wider,  until  what  was  at  firsi,  an  honest  differ- 
ence of  judgment,  grew  into  alienation  and  antipa- 
thy. These  things  could  not  move  him  from  his 
course.  No  man  was  ever  less  intimidated  by  the 
storms  of  party  rage.  What  particular  share  he 
had  in  the  party  transactions  of  that  day  is  not 
known  to  the  writer.     It  is  believed,  however,  that 


305 

he  was  so  far  from  exasperating  the  passions  which 
were  then  roused,  as  to  sacrifice  much  of  liis  own 
feelings  to  the  interests  of  peace  and  moderation. 
He  gave  tlie  weight  of  his  high  standing  and  tal- 
ents to  the  side  which  he  thought  was  right,  and 
was  regarded  as  its  most  efficient  leader  in  the 
state.  '  This  exposed  him  to  much  virulence  and 
abuse.  And  what  eminent  man  has  not  been  sub- 
ject to  calumny?  He  was  consistent  through  his 
whole  public  life,  and  when  the  most  provoking 
obloquy  was  heaped  upon  him  never  returned  rail- 
ing for  railing.  He  had  too  much  good  sense,  phi- 
losophy and  piety  to  be  thus  guilty.  Whoever 
reads  his  productions  will  be  struck  with  their 
calmness,  justness  and  forbearance.  His  eye  was 
fixed  upon  truth  and  the  everlasting  welfare  of  his 
country  ;  and  he  was  too  elevated  to  suffer  by  the 
traducers  who  wished  to  ruin  him.  Tiiis  modera- 
tion, as  was  natural,  only  inflamed  them  the  more ; 
but  his  firm  and  conciliatory  conduct  did  not  fail  of 
gaining  the  respect  of  liberal  and  fair  opponents  ; 
and  they  who  were  halting  between  the  two  par- 
ties were  won  by  it  to  his  side.  Never  did  any 
great  man  more  completely  and  honourably  triumph 
over  his  enemies.  Every  year  to  the  last,  added 
strength  and  stability  to  his  reputation,  and  he 
die«l,  (October  17,  1808)  iiivesled  with  the  badges 

39 


306 

of  the  highest  office  m  the  gift  of  his  native  state, 
anil  was  universally  mourned. 

In  his  adrainistiation  he  was  wise,  upright  and 
impartial.  When  solicited  by  some  violent  men  to 
remove  from  office  some  worthy  incumbents,  for  no 
other  reason  than  their  being  of  the  opposite  party, 
he  declared  that  he  would  be  the  governor  of  the 
people  and  not  of  a  party.  The  object  of  his  ad- 
ministration was  to  conciliate  parties,  and  was  iu 
some  dpjn'ee  successful.  But  after  he  died  the 
olive  branch  withered  and  the  political  storm  raged 
more  than  ever.  Every  thing  is  now  calm,  the 
state  is  safe  and  free,  and  he  sleeps  iu  peace  with 
others,  who  with  equal  patriotism  took  another 
course.  We  now  recollect  with  admiration  that  he 
sustained  a  greater  number  of  important  offices, 
and  for  a  longer  term,  than  any  other  man  in  the 
commonwealth  ever  did,  and  that  he  never  shrunk 
from  his  duty  or  proved  unequal  to  it.  Every  step 
of  !»is  career  was  hiborious  and  responsible,  but  his 
energy  and  faithfulness  supported  him  through 
every  part,  in  tiie  practice  of  the  most  arduous  vir- 
tue and  constant  usefulness.  The  federal  constitu- 
tion W.1S  in  his  view  pregnant  with  the  greatest 
beneiits,  and  he  writes  of  it  as  follows  : 

<'When  the  United  States  assumed  their  iside- 
pendcnce,  they  oflered  themselves  to  the  world,  as 


SOT 

free,  separate,  sovereign  powers.  The  league  call- 
ed the  confederation,  by  which  tliey  attempted  to 
act  as  a  nation  for  certain  purposes,  very  soon  lost 
its  efficiency  and  became  a  dead  letter.  Various 
were  the  sciieraes  for  a  permanent  union,  at  that 
important  crisis^  filled  with  anxiety  and  alarm,  and 
many  were  the  speculations  offered  to  the  public 
eye.  A  mere  confederation,  vvithout  energy  or 
power,  was  one  extreme,  while  a  consolidation  of 
all  the  states  to  one  complete  entire  sovereignty 
was  the  other.  In  the  first,  were  contained  tliose 
seeds  of  discord  and  disunion,  which  would,  iu  full 
growth,  have  rendered  us  the  sport  of  European 
powers,  and  have  fixed  us  in  war  among  ourselves. 
In  the  other,  the  increase  of  our  people,  the  extent 
of  our  country,  and  the  pride  of  power,  fixed  in  the 
hands  of  a  few,  exhibited  all  the  ter«-ors  of  an 
hereditary  monarchy,  uplield  of  necessity  by  an 
hereditary  aristocracy  :  For  the  tall  cedar  cannot 
stand  alone ;  tlie  large  trees  of  the  forest  must  en- 
circle and  shield  it,  or  its  fall  is  certain  and  inevi- 
table. 

"When  tjje  public  mind  was  agitated  by  these 
speculations,  Virginia,  the  oldest  sister  of  the 
union,  issued  a  proposition  for  a  national  conven- 
tion, to  be  held  on  this  interesting  subject.  Tjje 
fortunate   event  is   known,   understood,   enjoyed. 


308 

A  national  eonslitution  was  produced,  examined, 
amended  and  established. 

^^By  this  system,  the  people  withdrew  a  portion 
of  the  sovereignty,  which  had  been  devolved  on 
the  governments  of  the  states  separately,  and  vested 
it  in  the  national  government,  to  be  exercised  on 
men  and  things,  according  to  the  form  of  the  con- 
stitution. So  that  we  now  behold  two  sovereign 
powers  acting  upon  the  same  subject  at  the  same 
time.  This  novelty  in  the  exercise  of  power  is 
now  in  tlie  hand  of  experiment,  and  were  we  at 
this  moment  to  form  an  opinion,  without  further 
process,  we  should  pronounce  without  hesitation 
in  its  favour.  We  should  vouch  peace  and  pros- 
perity ;  we  should  call  up  increase  of  wealth  and 
population  ;  Ave  sliould  exhibit  health,  happiness, 
public  and  private  felicity,  to  maintain  our  asser- 
tion. L.  T.  p. 

"Could  we  understand  our  present  political  situ- 
ation, as  a  nation  and  as  separate  states  ;  could  we 
carefully  and  impartially  examine  it,  in  all  its  nice 
and  regular  forms;  could  we  see  the  beautiful  con- 
nexion of  all  the  healthy  and  vigorous  parts,  which 
compose  the  unprecedented  and  glorious  system  of 
government,  which  heaven  has  seen  fit  to  bestow 
upon  us,  we  should  view  the  man  who  would 
dare  predict  a  change  of  it,  as  to  its  essential  prin- 


309 

ciples,  as  our  most  inveterate  enemy.  We  should 
hold  him  as  the  common  enemy  of  mankind,  be- 
cause unless  the  enlightened  people  of  the  United 
States  can  support  the  dignity  of  freedom  and  en- 
joy the  blessings  of  free  government^  there  is  no 
hope  left  for  the  human  race."  Obs.  U.  S.  Govern- 
mentj  p.  13 — -14. 

Political  and  professional  pursuits  did  not  whol- 
ly engross  his  care.  Letters  and  science  received 
his  aid  and  encouragement.  He  was  one  of  the 
first  members  of  the  American  Academy  of  Arts  and 
Sciences  ;  one  of  the  founders  and  many  years  pre- 
sident of  the  Massachusetts  Historical  Society.  In 
the  life  of  Sir  William  Joxes  may  be  found  a  let- 
ter which  was  addressed  by  Sullivan,  when  pre- 
sident of  that  society,  to  inform  him  of  his  election 
as  an  honorary  member.  He  was  actively  concern- 
ed in  several  religious  and  benevolent  associations. 
His  public  spirit  was  never  weary  in  ils  exertions  ; 
and  since  public  works  have  justly  obtained  so  much 
estimation,  and  reflected  on  their  projectors  so  much 
honour,  it  should  not  be  forgotten  by  the  citizens 
of  Massachusetts,  that,  besides  his  otiier  claims  to 
their  gratitude,  they  are  indebted  to  Governor 
Sullivan  for  the  Middlesex  Canal.  He  planned 
that  great  work,  and  devoted  to  it  much  time  and 
labour.     From  its  commencement  until  his  death 


310 

he  was  president  of  the  corporation.     Some  of  his 
writings  have  been  pnblished.     Tliey  seem  to  have 
been  intended  by  him  rather  to  be  of  service  to  the 
world  than  to  build  up  a  literary  reputation.     He 
was  too  much  engaged  in  business  to  have  leisure 
for  very  elaborate  composition.     The  subjects  of 
which  he  has  treated  are  all  interesting,  and  he  did 
not  feel   himself  at  liberty  to   withhold  the   light 
which  he  could  bestow  on  them.     The  History  of 
Land  Titles  contains  the  most  prominent  facts  in 
our  legal  annals,  and  many  just  and  excellent  re- 
marks on  our  laws  and  constitutions.     It  would  be 
more  read  and   better  esteemed,  had  not  our  Re- 
ports, which  were  soon  after  published,  gone  more 
fully  and  conclusively    into  the  same  researches. 
The  reasonings  of  one  man  cannot  stand  in  compe- 
tition with  the  opinions  which  are  spoken  by  author- 
ity.    The  History  of  tiie  District  of  Maine  does 
credit  to  his  industry,  and  preserves  from  oblivion 
much  traditionary  narrative.     His  Treatise  on  the 
Suability  of  the  States,   is   a  sound  and  judicious 
piece.    The  Path  to  Riches  or  an  Essay  on  Banks, 
contains  perhaps  as  good  principles  on  that  topic 
as  can  any  where  be  found,  and  in  point  of  style  is 
one  of  his  neatest  and  most  finished  performances. 
1  have  never  seen  his  Treatise  on  the  Constitu- 
tional Liberty  of  the  Press.     He  proposed  to  write 


311 

a  history  of  the  criminal  law  of  the  state,  but  it 
was  never  printed.  Every  one  of  his  works  glows 
with  the  fervour  of  true  patriotism  and  Ijenevolence. 
His  conversation  was  enriched  with  the  stores  of  va- 
rious reading,  for  there  was  no  department  of  learn- 
ing with  which  he  did  not  seek  an  acquaintance. 

The  late  Rev.  Mr.  Buckminster  of  Boston, 
whose  church  he  attended,  in  the  sermon  on  his 
death  said, 

"  His  mind,  if  I  may  be  allowed  the  compari- 
son, was  like  a  native  forest  which  had  never  beeri 
entirely  cleared,  or  carefully  divided  ;  where  the 
light  gained  admission  at  every  opening,  and  not 
through  any  regular  avenue  ;  where  the  growth 
was  rapid  and  thick,  and  though  occasionally  irreg- 
ular, yet  always  strong ;  where  new  seeds  were 
successively  shooting  up,  and  the  materials  seemed 
never  likely  to  be  exhausted.  I  know  that  men  of 
original  thinking,  whose  minds  are  at  all  of  a  phi- 
losophical cast,  are  tempted,  especially  when  de- 
prived of  the  discipline  of  a  regular  education,  to 
speculate  too  curiously  on  the  subject  of  Christian- 
ity, and  to  indulge  the  conceits  of  a  barren  scep- 
ticism. But  to  the  honour  of  our  departed  chief 
magistrate  I  mention  it,  his  faith  was  never  wrest- 
ed from  him  by  subtlety,  nor  thrown  away  to  pur- 
sue with  more  freedom  purposes  of  interest  or  pas- 


312 

sion.  His  early  profession  of  Christianity^  his 
attachmeut  to  its  ministers,  his  connexion  with 
several  of  its  churclies,  and  his  interest  in  a  rising 
family,  came  in  aid  of  one  another,  and  of  religion 
in  his  mind." 

He  was  exemplary  in  performing  the  duties  of 
all  the  several  relations  of  life.  The  author  of  a 
well  written  obituary  notice  which  appeared  in  the 
Palladium  after  his  death,  thus  describes  the  clos- 
ing scene  of  his  career. 

"In  the  long  and  distressed  confinement  which 
preceded  his  decease,  though  always  aware  that 
his  disease  was  beyond  the  reach  of  medicine  or 
of  human  skill,  he  suffered  with  resignation  and 
calmness,  and  scarcely  ever  was  a  complaint  heard 
to  escape  from  him.  He  often  beguiled  the  tedious- 
ness  of  his  sleepless  nights  with  instructive  and 
pleasant  conversation.  He  ofien  spoke  with  fer- 
vent gratitude  of  the  consolations  which  he  expe- 
rienced ;  above  all,  that  his  illness  had  not  bereft 
him  of  his  mind,  and  that  he  was  permitted  to  close 
his  long  and  laborious  life  in  the  bosom  of  his  fam- 
ily, with  the  unshaken  assurance  of  renewing  his 
existence  in  another  and  a  better  world.'' 

I  have  thus  paid  the  small  tribute  which  I  could 
to  the  memory  of  the  man  who  wished  for  honest 
fame.     He  hoped  to  be  remembered.     <^  Self-love, 


313 

says  lie,  attaches  itself  to  and  places  an  undue  esti- 
mate on  the  things  we  possess  ;  and  we  therefore  do 
not  indulge  with  pleasure,  the  reflection  of  being 
separated  from  them  forever.  As  a  balm  to  ease 
our  feelings,  we  pursue  measures  to  render  our 
uames  immortal,  and  to  print  the  lines  of  our  ex- 
istence here  as  deep  as  possible,  that  generations 
far  distant  on  the  wheel  of  time,  as  they  roll  near 
and  pass  on,  may  recognize  where  we  once  had 
been." 

Our  country  has  a  property  in  the  characters  of 
its  great  men.  They  shed  a  glory  over  its  annals 
and  are  bright  examples  for  future  citizens.  Other 
nations  too  may  enjoy  their  light.  The  flame  of 
liberty  has  been  caught  from  the  patriots  of  Grreece 
and  Rome  by  men  who  were  not  born  in  those 
lands,  while  the  descendants  of  those  patriots  have 
forgotten  the  fame  of  their  ancestors.  And  should 
it  happen,  contrary  to  all  our  prayers  and  all  our 
trust,  that  the  inhabitants  of  this  country  at  some 
period  hereafter,  should  lose  the  freedom  and  tlie 
spirit  of  their  fathers,  the  history  of  our  Adamses, 
our  Warrens  and  our  Sullivans,  shall  wake  the 
courage  of  patriots  on    distant  shores^  and  teach 

them  to  triumph  over  oppression. 

A. 

40 


DALTON. 


IN  giving  a  brief  sketch  of  the  life  of  this  dis- 
tinguished gentleman,  we  may  be  allowed  a  single 
remark  on  the  state  of  society,  in  this  part  of  the 
country,  fifty  years  since.  The  revolution  has 
incalculably  increased  and  diffused  the  happiness 
of  the  people,  and  perhaps  the  eminent  men  of 
other  times  appear  more  striking  to  us  from  the 
smallness  of  their  number ;  but  there  were  to  be 
found  before  the  revolution,  in  many  parts  of  New 
England,  a  degree  of  mental  cultivation,  a  refine- 
ment and  dignity  of  manners,  and  a  liberal  hospi- 
tality in  the  intercourse  of  society,  which  has  not 
since,  to  say  the  least,  been  surpassed. 

The  town  of  Newburyport  once  furnished  a  re- 
markable illustration  of  the  truth  of  this  observa- 
tion. Its  population  was  small — actively  engaged 
in  commercial  pursuits — under  the  direction  of 
some  of  the  most  intelligent  and  distinguished 
merchants  of  New  England.  Several  of  these 
gentlemen  had  been  associated  in  early  life  at  the 
University,  and  others  were  connected  by  nearer 


316 

ties.  Four  members  of  one  class,  although  not 
natives  of  the  town,  chose  Newbnryport  as  the 
place  of  their  residence.  One  of  them  was  a 
clergyman,  lately  deceased,  most  respected  and 
beloved,  who  for  many  years  found  these  friends 
of  his  youth  amongst  his  most  affectionate  and 
valuable  parishioners.  The  intercourse  of  society- 
is  always  most  pleasant  and  unrestrained  in  places^ 
A\  hich  are  small  enough  to  permit  each  to  be  ac- 
quainted with  all,  whilst  the  same  circumstance 
prevents  the  establishment  of  rival  circles — and 
in  no  part  of  America,  we  believe,  were  its  plea- 
sures enjoyed  more  rationally,  or  a  more  frank  and 
generous  hospitality  exhibited  towards  strangers^ 
than  in  Newburyport. 

The  Honourable  Tkistram  Dalton  was  born 
there,  in  the  month  of  June,  1738.  He  was  the 
only  child  of  parents  of  the  first  respectability.  In 
the  year  1755,  being  then  at  the  early  age  of  sev- 
enteen, he  received  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts 
at  Harvard  University.  He  was  tall  and  finely 
formed,  and  added  to  liis  personal  beauty  tiie 
most  graceful  and  polished  manners.  He  was 
diligent,  exemplary,  and  accomplished  as  a  scholar. 
His  class  was  a  distinguished  one.  None  is  at 
present  recollected  of  the  same  numbers,  which 
has  furnished  an  equal  proportion  of  eminent  men. 


317 

Two  of  its  illustrious  members  stUl  live  to  enjoy 
the  gratitude  of  their  country.  After  leaving  the 
University,  Dalton  pursued  the  study  of  the  law 
at  Salem,  as  an  accomplishment,  and  not  with  a 
view  to  practice.  He  was  happily  exempted  from 
the  necessity  of  struggling  in  a  profession,  of  which 
it  has  been  well  remarked,  that  the  violence  of  the 
competition,  the  intellectual  labour,  and  the  unia- 
tellectual  drudgery  which  it  involves,  render  it 
the  most  difficult,  and  after  the  first  glow  of  enthu- 
siasm has  gone  by,  the  most  repelling  of  human 
pursuits. 

Having  finished  his  course  of  reading  in  Salem^ 
lie  married  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  Honourable 
Robert  Hooper,  of  Marhlehead,  and  entered  into 
business  with  his  father,  then  one  of  the  most 
wealthy  and  respectable  merchants  of  his  native 
town.  For  many  years  he  resided  in  Newbury- 
port,  actively  engaged  in  commercial  pursuits,  and 
surrounded  with  every  temporal  blessing — domes- 
tic happiness — public  respect — and  the  various 
and  exquisite  enjoyments,  which  a  taste  for  agri- 
culture and  letters,  with  unlimited  means  of  grati- 
fying it,  so  richly  affords.  His  piety  was  ardent 
and  sincere.  From  feeling  and  conviction,  he 
believed  in  the  gospel  of  our  blessed  Saviour.  He 
read  much,  and  devoted  himself  particularly  to 


318 

those  studies  which  are  connected  with  revelation, 
and  the  ancient  history  of  the  church.  He  pre- 
ferred the  Episcopalian  mode  of  worship,  at  which 
he  constantly  attended,  and  contributed  liberally 
towards  maintaining  it  in  Newburyport. 

For  several  years  he  was  called  to  fill  some  of 
the  most  dignified  and  responsible  oflBces  in  the 
Commonwealth.  He  was  a  representative  from 
his  town — Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives— a  member  of  the  Senate — and  with  the  late 
Grovernor  Strong,  was  chosen  a  senator  of  the 
United  States,  in  the  first  Congress  after  the  adop- 
tion of  the  Federal  Constitution.  When  the  term 
for  which  he  was  elected  to  the  office  of  senator  of 
the  United  States  had  expired,  the  proposed 
establishment  of  the  federal  city  at  Washington, 
presented  an  object  of  deceptive  splendour,  which 
seduced  many  to  resort  to  it.  The  visions  of 
power  and  glory,  which  seemed  to  accompany 
even  the  mention  of  its  name,  could  not  indeed 
have  been  realized  without  the  ^*  strong  enchant- 
ment" which  is  said  to  have  raised  the  walls  of 
ancient  cities  in  the  desert.  Dalton  had  formed 
an  extensive  acquaintance  with  the  inhabitants 
of  the  south,  and  was  induced  by  that  circum- 
stance, and  the  prospect  of  making  advantageous 
speculations  at  Washington,  to  invest  his  fortune 


319 

in  property  there,  which  ultimately  occasioned  to 
him  great  losses.  He  disposed  of  his  estates,  which 
were  among  the  most  beautiful  and  valuable  in 
the  county  of  Essex,  for  prices,  which,  even  at 
the  present  reduced  value  of  real  estate,  would  be 
thought  small,  and  removed  with  his  family  to 
Washington.  The  person  with  whom  he  was 
there  associated  in  business  deceived  him,  and  the 
consequence  was,  a  loss  of  nearly  the  whole  of  his 
property.  For  sixty  years  he  had  lived  in  a  state 
of  affluence,  and  the  change  would  have  crushed  a 
spirit  less  equable  than  his,  less  enlightened  by 
philosophy,  or  sustained  by  religion.  ^^  But  he 
had  learned  in  whatsoever  state  he  was,  therewith 
to  be  content,"  and  he  was  fortunately  in  a  part  of 
the  country,  where  wealth  is  not  the  "  one  and 
only  thing  needful."  With  manners  so  gentle 
and  attractive  as  his,  a  mind  so  cultivated,  integ- 
rity so  spotless,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  finding 
that  no  diminution  of  respect  accompanied  his  loss 
of  property  ;  and  the  priest  and  the  Levite,  if  they 
were  not  quite  so  obsequious  as  before,  did  not 
however  in  his  case,  as  in  most  others  of  misfor- 
tune, pass  by  on  the  other  side. 

Dalton  had  lived  in  habits  of  intimacy  and 
friendship  with  the  four  first  presidents  of  the 
United  States.     Washington  honoured  him  with 


320 

his  confidence  and  regard,  and  with  his  illustrious 
class-mate,  whose  peculiar  glory  it  is  to  have  been 
second  only  to  him,  who  was  "first  in  the  hearts 
of  his  countrymen,''^  the  friendship  which  was  form- 
ed in  early  life,  was  maintained  to  the  last,  un- 
changed and  unimpaired.  From  a  knowledge  of  his 
worth,  and  misfortunes,  he  was  offered  repeatedly 
by  the  national  government  a  choice  of  respectable 
offices.  In  1815,  he  was  appointed  surveyor  of 
the  ports  of  Boston  and  Charlestown,  and  he  re- 
turned once  more  to  New  England.  But  another 
generation  had  risen  up.  Of  his  contemporaries 
few  remained.  Some  younger  than  himself  had 
forgotten  him,  and  some  had  injured,  and  could 
not  therefore  forgive  him.  He  continued  in  the 
active  discharge  of  the  duties  of  this  office,  until 
4817,  when  he  closed  in  peace,  a  life  of  distin- 
guished purity  and  usefulness. 

"  Full  of  years  and  honours,  through  the  gate 

Of  painless  slumber  he  retired. 

As  a  river  pure 

Meets  in  his  course  a  subterraneous  void, 

There  dips  his  silver  head  again  to  rise, 

And  rising  glide  through  fields  and  meadows  new, 

So  hath  Oileus  in  those  happier  climes, 

Where  neither  gloom  or  sorrow  shades  the  mind." 

B. 


OTIS. 


JAMES  OTIS  was  an  eminent  lawyer  who 
flourished  in  the  fore  part  and  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century  ;  he  resided  in  the  town  of 
Barnstable,  the  shire  town  of  the  county  of  the 
same  name.  He  had  not  the  advantage  of  a  col- 
legiate education ;  but  the  powers  of  his  mind 
were  immense  ;  he  was  well  skilled  in  the  theory 
and  practice  of  law,  and  there  were  but  few,  if  any, 
actions  of  magnitude  in  the  old  colony  in  which  he 
was  not  engaged.  His  arguments  were  strong,  lucid 
and  impressive  ;  no  man  had  a  greater  influence 
on  the  jury  than  he  had  ;  he  would  accommodate 
himself  to  their  understanding,  and  by  a  species  of 
address — 1  will  not  say  flattery — so  work  himself 
into  their  affections,  as  to  gain  an  advantage  of 
which  no  other  man,  among  his  contemporaries, 
could  avail  himself.  The  celebrity  of  his  charac- 
ter was  not  confined  to  the  narrow  limits  of  his 
county ;  he  was  appointed  colonel  of  the  regiment 
of  militia  in  the  county  of  Barnstable,  and  vv'as  a 
great  number  of  years  a  member  of  his  Majesty's 

41 


322 

Council  of  the  Province;  in  whicli  situation  as  a 
statesman  he  shone  with  uncommon  lustre.  He 
was  also  appointed  Chief  Justice  of  the  Court  of 
Common  Pleas  for  that  county,  which  oflBce  he 
sustained  till  or  near  the  close  of  his  life.  In  this 
situation  his  decisions  were  such  as  a  thorough  un- 
derstanding of  the  law  and  strict  integrity  dic- 
tated. When  the  important  struggle  between 
Great  Britain  and  her  colonies  took  place,  he  was 
one  of  the  first  who  espoused  the  cause  of  his  na- 
tive country,  and  his  exertions  were  such  as  to 
draw  on  him  the  displeasure  of  Sir  Francis  Ber- 
nard, the  then  governor  of  the  Province,  who  by 
his  veto  once  or  oftener  deprived  him  of  his  seat 
in  Council  to  which  he  was  chosen  by  the  House 
of  Representatives ;  and  his  successor,  governor 
Hutchinson,  treading  in  the  steps  of  his  prede- 
cessor, dismissed  Col.  Otis's  son  Joseph  from 
the  office  of  major  in  the  Barnstable  regiment. 

In  the  year  1774,  after  the  new  modelling  of  the 
Constitution  of  Massachusetts,  when  the  Council 
was  appointed  by  the  king's  mandamus,  and  tlie 
jurors  appointed  by  the  sheriff,  it  was  thought  by 
the  people  at  large,  that  policy  dictated  that  the 
court  should  not  be  permitted  to  sit  and  adjudicate. 
Accordingly  at  the  time  the  Court  of  Common 
Pleas  was  to  have  set  in  Barnstable  in  September, 


323 

a  body  of  men  of  about  1500,  assembled  at  the 
court-house  and  took  possession  thereof,  and  form- 
ed a  solid  body  at  and  round  the  court-house  door. 
The  court,  preceded  by  the  high  sheriff  of  the 
county,  approached  as  near  the  court-liouse  door 
as  they  could  for  the  crowd  ;  the  Chief  Justice, 
Col.  Otis,  demanded  what  was  the  object  of  that 
unusual  concourse  of  people  ?  He  was  answered 
by  the  presiding  officer,  Doctor  Freeman,  since 
Brigadier,  that  the  object  of  that  assemblage  was 
to  prevent  the  court  from  doing  any  business,  or 
even  the  court's  being  opened.  The  Chief  Justice 
replied  that  that  court  was  a  constitutional  court, 
against  which  no  objection  could  be  made ;  that 
the  jurors  were  drawn  from  the  boxes  according 
to  the  ancient  custom  and  laws  of  the  land.  He 
was  answered  that  all  that  was  understood ;  but 
it  was  well  known  that  appeals  lay  from  that 
court  to  the  Superior  Court,  where  the  jurors  would 
be  appointed  by  the  sheriff;  and  as  prevention  is 
considered  as  the  best  of  actions,  it  was  the  safest 
way  to  stop  the  avenues  of  business  to  that  court; 
that  if  they  met  they  could  have  nothing  to  do  but 
to  adjourn  sine  die ;  which  would  prevent  that 
court  from  exercising  those  unconstitutional  powers 
which  the  British  Parliament  had  vested  them 
with.     That  this  was  the  object  of  the  assemblage. 


321 

aud  the  reason  on  which  they  founded  their  reso- 
lution that  the  court  should  not  sit ;  that  they  had 
fully  considered  the  subject,  and  that  their  resolu- 
tion was  not  to  be  shaken  by  any  consideration 
whatever.  The  Chief  Justice  then  said,  as  it  was 
his  duty,  he  now,  in  his  Majesty's  name,  com- 
manded them  to  disperse,  and  give  the  court  an 
opportunity  to  go  into  the  court-house.  This  was 
unanimously  refused.  The  Chief  Justice  then 
said  he  had  done  his  duty,  and  they  must  be  an- 
swerable for  their  conduct ;    and  retired. 

After  this  the  assemblage  chose  a  committee, 
who  waited  on  the  Chief  Justice,  and  in  the  name 
of  the  body  of  people  assembled,  requested  him  to 
attend  the  meeting  of  the  Legislature  which  was 
to  be  the  next  month,  and  demand  his  seat  at  the 
Council  Board,  to  which  they  considered  him  con- 
stitutionally entitled  ;  notwithstanding  the  Council 
appointed  by  the  king's  mandamus  was  supposed 
to  have  superceded  the  Council  chosen  by  the 
House  of  Representatives.  The  Chief  Justice 
thanked  them  for  their  request,  and  said  that  he 
had  previously  determined  to  attend — though  not 
summoned  by  the  governor — and  demand  liis  seat ; 
for  he  considered  the  act  of  Parliament  as  a  mere 
nullity.  However,  before  the  time  arrived  for  the 
sitting  of  the  General  Court,  so  many  of  the  man- 


325 

damus  Couucil  had  resigned,  that  there  was  not 
left  a  quorum,  and  the  governor,  general  Gage, 
issued  his  proclamation  directing  the  General 
Court  not  to  assemble. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  Col.  Otis  men- 
tally approved  of  this  procedure  ;  for  he  did  not 
leave  his  mansion  house — four  miles  from  the 
court-house — until  he  had  seen  this  assemblage 
pass  by ;  and  he  could  not  be  ignorant  of  their 
design.  He  was  then  greatly  advanced  in  years, 
though  his  health  appeared  sound ;  he  was  then 
somewhat  plethoric,  but  his  eyes  retained  their 
native  brilliancy. 

Col.  Otis  had  three  sons,  the  eldest  of  whom 
bore  his  name,  and  his  fame  will  be  as  lasting  as 
the  annals  of  America,  and  who  justly  ought  to 
be  considered  as  the  most  splendid  constellation  in 
the  American  hemisphere.  The  second  son  was 
Joseph,  whose  name  has  before  been  mentioned  ; 
he  was  advanced  in  the  time  of  the  revolution  to 
the  rank  of  Brigadier  in  the  militia,  and  afterwards 
was  collector  for  the  port  of  Barnstable.  The 
third  was  Samuel  Allyne,  who  often  represented 
the  town  of  Boston  in  the  General  Court;  was  once 
the  Speaker  of  the  House  ;  was  a  member  of  Con- 
gress under  the  confederation,  and  under  the  new 
constitution  was  Secretary  to  the  Senate  from  the 


$26 

first  organization  of  the  Legislature  to  his  death. 
He  had  one  daughter,  the  wife  of  general  James 
Warren,  who  was  very  noted  for  the  goodness  of 
her  pen.  She  wrote  the  Adulator  and  the  Group, 
two  political  dramatic  pieces,  and  a  volume  of 
poems,  containing,  among  other  things,  two  other 
dramatic  pieces,  and  an  history  of  the  American 
revolutionary  war,  in  three  volumes. 

Col.  Otis  died  in  an  advanced  age,  Nov.  1778. 

C. 


LEONARD. 


ELKANAH  LEONARD.  He  was  born  pretty 
early  ia  the  eighteenth  century  (perhaps  in  the  year 
1708)  at  Middleborough  in  the  county  of  Plymouth. 
His  education  was  limited  to  a  common  school ;  but 
nature  had  been  very  liberal  in  the  endowment  of 
his  mind.  He  possessed  strong  powers  of  investi- 
gation, a  sound  judgment,  and  an  uncommon  bril- 
liancy of  wit ;  and  his  inventive  powers  were  not 
surpassed,  if  equalled,  by  any  of  his  time. 

With  this  limited  literary  education,  he  applied 
himself  to  the  study  of  law,  in  which,  notwith- 
standing his  disadvantages,  he  made  astonishing 
progress.  His  memory  was  so  retentive,  that  what- 
ever he  read  was  safely  deposited  in  the  cabinet  of 
his  recollection.  He  soon  possessed  himself  with 
all  the  legal  ideas  contained  in  the  treatises  on  law 
which  were  then  extant ;  and  such  was  his  forti- 
tude of  mind  that  on  his  first  appearance  at  the  bar 
he  would  manage  the  most  difficult  cases  without 
any  apparent  timidity.  His  assistance  in  the  de- 
fence in  criminal  prosecutions  was  much  sought 


328 

for,  and  his  abilities  were  never  more  conspicuous 
than  in  those  defences  ;  and  his  success  was  in 
proportion   to  his   exertions.      It  was    sometimes 
thought  that  a  good  conscience  could  not  justify  all 
his  strenuous  exertions.     He  soon  attracted  execu- 
tive and  legislative  notice.     At  an  early  age  he 
was  by  the  Governor  appointed  a  major  in  the 
militia  in  the  regiment  to  which  he  belonged,  and* 
the  writer  of  these  sketches  recollects  that  in  perus- 
ing an  old  volume  of  the  Journals  of  the  House  of 
Representatives,  between  the  years  1730  and  1740, 
that  when  a  committee  of  the  House  was  appointed 
to  manage  an  intricate  cause  in  which  the  Province 
was  engaged,  that   they  were   instructed   by  the 
House  to  consult  Elkanah  Leonard,  to  take  his 
opinion  and  engage  his  assistance.     But  the  fate 
of  human  greatness  is  very  precarious.     While  he 
was  thus  "  in  the  full  tide  of  successful  experi- 
ment,^^  his  mind,  as  capacious  as  it  was,   without 
any  apparent  cause,  became  so  far  deranged,  as  to 
render  him  unfit  for  any  kind  of  business  ;  and  in 
this   situation,  though  never  very  frantic,   lie  re- 
mained to  the  close  of  his  life  in  a  very  advanced 
age.     Tbis  malady  of  the  mind  did  not  extinguish 
his  attachment  to  legal  investigations ;  he  would 
sit  half  a  day  at  a  time  in  perusing  Coke's  Insti- 
tutes, his  lieports,   and  the  ancient  sages  in  law 


329 

with  much  attention  and  apparent  satisfaction.  The 
writer  of  these  sketches  recollects,  that  when  a  boy 
(August,  1774)  he  called  on  a  son  of  this  gentle- 
man with  whom  he  Jived.  The  old  gentleman 
interrogated  him,  who  he  was  ?  where  he  came 
from  ?  and  on  being  informed,  he  began  an  inquiry 
concerning  a  number  of  people  who  had  formerly 
been  his  clients.  He  would  state  their  cases,  ap- 
parently with  correctness,  and  the  fate  of  these  ac- 
tions and  the  pivot  on  which  they  turned;  and  it 
gave  him  great  apparent  satisfaction  to  relate  his 
success.  He  was  much  famed  for  the  accuracy  of 
his  forms  of  declarations,  which  at  that  time  was  a 
very  important  item  in  legal  acquirements,  and 
generally  the  last  request  of  the  client  to  his  attor- 
ney was,  ^'Pray  make  it  hang.''  He  was  the  first 
attorney  in  the  town  of  Middleborough,  and  the 
only  one  that  had  an  office  there  until  James 
Sproat  opened  an  office  there,  about  the  year 
1788.    There  are  now  three  at  that  place.        C. 


42 


ruggl.es. 


TIMOTHY  RUGGLES.  He  was  bora  in 
Rochester,  Oct.  11, 1711,  was  the  eldest  son  of  the 
Rev.  Timothy  Ruggles,  minister  of  the  first  par- 
ish iu  that  town,  and  was  the  second  minister  set- 
tled iu  Rochester.  He  was  educated  at  Cambridge, 
and  it  was  his  father's  fervent  wish  to  introduce 
him  to  the  work  of  the  Gospel  Ministry;  but  he  had 
no  inclination  to  gratify  his  father  in  that  respect. 
He  represented  the  town  of  Rochester  in  the  Gene- 
ral Court  the  year  1736,  but  it  does  not  appear  that 
he  had  any  wish  to  be  re-elected.  In  that  year 
he  procured  a  temporary  act,  which  was  after- 
wards made  perpetual,  prohibiting  deputy  sheriffs 
from  filling  writs.  Having  made  choice  of  the 
practice  of  law  for  his  business,  he  opened  an  oflBce 
in  Sandwich,  in  the  county  of  Barnstable.  He 
married  a  dowager,  and  opened  a  tavern — the  same 
which  is  now  kept  by  Mr.  Newcomb — in  which 
business  he  was  particular  in  personal  attendance, 
getting  oats,  bridling  horses,  &c.  saying,  he  would 
never  be  too  big  for  his  own  business.    While  here 


332 

he  attended  the  courts  in  Plymouth,  Bristol  and 
Barnstable  counties  ;  and  there  were  few  actions 
of  magnitude,  but  that  he  and  old  Col.  Otis  met 
eacli  other  on  opposite  sides.  As  a  scholar  he  was 
much  above  mediocrity  ;  his  strength  of  mind  was 
great;  his  reasoning  powers  and  his  legal  informa- 
tion placed  him  among  the  most  able  advocates  of 
that  day  ;  but  his  manners  were  coarse,  rough  and 
offensive  ;  his  wit  was  brilliant,  but  harsh  and  un- 
pleasant ;  his  arguments  to  a  court  or  jury  were 
luminous  and  impressive ;  but  in  his  private  con- 
versation he  did  not  so  studiously  avoid  profanity, 
as  prudence  would  have  dictated.  Mrs.  Warrex, 
in  her  celebrated  play,  "  The  GroujJ,'^  has  not  far 
departed  from  propriety,  when  in  the  iiersons  of 
the  drama  she  gave  him  the  name  of  Brigadier 
Hate-all. 

Having  practised  some  time  in  Sandwich,  he 
conceived  the  business  there  to  be  too  limited  to 
make  it  a  proper  sphere  for  him  to  move  in  ;  and 
he  accordingly  removed  to  Hard  wick  in  the  county 
of  Worcester.  AVhile  here  he  entered  a  military 
life  ;  he  was  the  second  in  command  in  General 
Johnson's  fight,  so  called,  in  which  action  the 
Baron  De  Dieskau,  the  French  general,  was  de- 
feated, wounded  and  taken  prisoner.  His  activity 
in  said  action  recommended  him  to  the  favourable 


333 

notice  of  his  sovereign,  George  II.  who  gave  hiai 
a  lucrative  office  under  the  crown  ;  and  he  was  also 
appointed  first  justice  of  the  Court  of  Common 
Pleas  in  that  county,  and  often  represented  tliat 
town  in  the  General  Court. 

Daring  the  active  career  of  this  gentleman,  the 
British  minister,  Mr.  Grenville,  conceived  the 
project  of  raising  a  revenue  in  America,  and  he 
ushered  the  stamp-act  into  parliament,  where  it 
became  a  law.  This  measure  caused  an  universal 
clamour  in  the  colonies.  A  general  Congress  was 
chosen,  which  met  in  New  York,  1765 :  of  this 
Congress  Brigadier  Ruggles  w^as  a  member,  and 
is  said  to  have  been  the  president,  but  for  this  I 
can  find  no  documental  authority. 

It  is  presumed  that  at  the  time  of  his  election, 
he  was  not  considered  as  an  advocate  for  the 
British  claims  ;  however,  his  conduct  there  did  not 
meet  the  approbation  of  the  Provincial  Assembly, 
by  which  he  was  chosen  ;  of  wiiich  he  was  not 
long  after  made  sensible,  in  a  way  not  the  most 
pleasing  to  him  ;  and  ever  after  that  he  was  point- 
ed against  the  measures  adopted  by  the  colonists. 

On  mutilating  the  charter  of  Massachusetts,  in 
1774,  he  was  appointed  a  member  of  the  Council, 
by  the  king's  mandamus.  The  spirit  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  his  own  personal  safely,  made  it  neces- 


334 

sary  for  him  to  abandoa  bis  place  of  residence^ 
at  Hardwick,  and  take  protection  in  the  capital 
which  was  then  garrisoned  by  a  British  army.  In 
this  place  he  distinguished  himself  by  his  utmost 
malignity  against  the  measures  adopted  by  the 
colonists.  From  hence  he  sent  into  the  country 
his  famous  association,  fondly  hoping  by  means  of 
that,  to  damp  the  ardour  of  the  colonists,  and  abate 
their  energy  ;  but  it  was  too  late  for  that,  his  asso- 
ciation had  no  other  effect  than  to  increase  the 
political  flame. 

He  remained  with  the  British  during  the  revo- 
lutionary war,  and  settled  himself  at,  or  near,  Port 
Roseway,  where  he  spent  the  residue  of  his  days. 

C. 


SPRAGUE. 


JOHN  SPRAGUE,  the  subject  of  this  sketch, 
was  the  youngest  son  of  Noah  Sprague,  Esq.  a 
gentleman  of  considerable  standing  in  the  town  of 
Rochester,  county  of  Plymouth,  and  who  often  re- 
ceived the  highest  honours  of  that  town.  This  son 
was  born  June  21st,  1740.  Until  he  was  twenty- 
one  years  of  age,  he  worked  at  husbandry  on  his 
father's  farm;  but  on  being  emancipated  from 
minority,  he  abandoned  that  business  for  the  pur- 
pose of  preparing  himself  for  some  learned  profes- 
sion, and  went  through  his  preparatory  studies 
under  the  tuition  of  the  late  Rev.  Thomas  West, 
and  afterwards  received  the  honours  of  Cambridge. 
He  then  entered  on  his  legal  studies  in  the  office  of 
Mr.  Putnam,  of  Worcester;  which  studies  he 
pursued  with  the  most  intense  application.  He 
was  admitted  to  the  bar,  and  settled  in  the  town 
of  Lancaster.  The  proficiency  he  had  made  in 
his  legal  studies  enabled  him,  when  applied  to  as 
counsel — if  the  case  was  fairly  stated  to  him — to 
give  such  advice  as  might  be  confided  in  with 


336 

safely  j  and  such  was  his  integrity,  that  he  gave 
his  opiuiou  as  it  was,  without  any  regard  to  the 
consequences.  His  open  and  frank  practice  soon 
secured  to  him  a  large  run  of  business  ;  and  though 
it  is  not  pretended  that  his  oratorical  abilities  were 
very  distinguished,  yet  his  thorough  knowledge  of 
the  law,  and  his  close  investigation  of  facts,  and 
the  strength  of  his  reasoning  powers  enabled  him 
to  appear  at  the  bar  to  great  advantage,  and  his 
employers  never  had  reason  to  repent  of  the  confi- 
dence they  had  placed  in  him.  He  was  not  only 
a  lawyer,  but  an  upright  one  ;  and  was  a  great 
enemy  to  ill-natured  and  frivolous  actions,  and 
scouted  all  from  his  presence,  who  applied  to 
him  to  bring  actions  which  propriety  would  not 
justify. 

He  often  represented  that  town  in  the  state  legis- 
lature, and  was  often  a  member  of  the  senate  ;  in 
both  of  which  situations,  the  correct  statesman  was 
apparent  in  his  character.  He  was  also  a  member 
of  the  state  convention,  which  ratified  the  federal 
constitution.  He  also  sustained  the  office  of  sheriff 
of  said  county,  and  afterwards  that  of  chief  justice 
of  the  court  of  common  pleas  :  in  which  office  he 
distinguished  himself  as  an  upright,  and  "well 
informed  judge.  He  died  at  his  seat  in  Lan- 
caster, before  the  approaches  of  old  age  had  made 


337 

any  considerable  inroad  on  his  constitution.  He 
left  one  son,  a  member  of  the  bar,  who  is  not  now 
living,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  he  has  any  descendants 
now,  who  bear  the  name  of  Sprague.  C. 

PELEG  SPRAGUE,  a  nephew  of  the  preced- 
ing, was  born  in  Rochester,  December  10,   1756. 
He  was  brought  up  in  a  merchant's  store  ;  but  on 
his  coming  to  years  of  maturity,  his  friends  imag- 
ined that   the  endowments  of  his  mind  qualified 
him  to  move  in  a  different  sphere  ;  he  was  accord- 
ingly placed  in  a  school,  until  he  was  thought  to 
be  prepared  to  enter  on  the  study  of  the  law.     He 
was  then  placed  under  the  tuition  of  Benjamin 
West,  at  Charlestown,  N.  H.  who  has  been  call- 
ed the  Parsons  of  New  Hampshire.     He  finished 
his  studies,  and  was  admitted  to  the  bar ;  he  open- 
ed an  oflRce  in  Dartmouth,  (since  New  Bedford) 
and  continued  there  a  year  or  two  ;  and  though 
his  prospects  were  rather  flattering,  yet  he  conceiv- 
ed he   could  do  better  somewhere  else.     He  next 
opened  an  office  in  Keene,  Cheshire  county,  N.  H. 
where  he  soon  acquired  a   very  handsome  run  of 
practice ;  and  though  an  exotic,  he  was  chosen  a 
represensative  of  that  state  in  Congress.     In  this 
situation  he  appeared  to  very  good  advantage,  and 
his  fortitude  of  mind  was  of  peculiar  advantage  to 

43 


338 

him.  He  was  an  easy  speaker,  and  felt  no  kind 
of  intimidation  in  opposing  any  measure  which  he 
thought  incorrect,  however  great  the  characters 
might  be  of  those  who  supported  it.  But  at  the 
meridian  of  life,  his  impaired  state  of  health  was 
inconsistent  with  his  being  any  longer  a  candidate, 
and  he  soon  paid  the  great  debt  of  nature.  C 


CUSHING. 


JOSEPH  CUSHING,  a  native  of  the  Old  Col- 
ony, was  born,  it  is  believed,  in  the  town  of  Han- 
over, he  was  educated  at  Cambridge,  and  graduated 
in  the  year  1752.     He  chose  the  profession  of  law, 
and  commenced  business  at  Hanover,  where  he 
spent  his  days  in  the  practice.     After  the  Ameri- 
can    revolution    commenced,   he   was    appointed 
brigadier-general  of  the  first  brigade,  in  the  fifth 
division  of  the  Massachusetts  militia.      He  was 
also  appointed  judge  of  probate  for  the  county  of 
Plymouth,  which  office  he  held  during  his  life ; 
he  died  in  the  close  of  the  year  1791,  or  the  be- 
ginning  of  the  year  1792.     His  powers  of  mind 
would  not  be  over-rated,  when  estimated  at  what 
is  called  mediocrity ;  and  his  legal  acquirements 
were  about  on  a  par  with  his   strength  of  mind. 
His  nerves  were  very   accessible,  and  it  was  a 
misfortune  which  he  laboured  under,  that  when  he 
was  under  the  influence  of  passion,  it  greatly  im- 
paired his  power  of  utterance,  as  well  as  deranged 


340 

his  ideas.  Of  tbis  circumstance,  Mr.  Angier  who 
came  into  practice  some  time  after  him,  did  not 
fail  to  take  advantage  ;  and  as  Angier  was  pecu- 
liarly qualified  to  excite  resentment,  his  clients 
often  reaped  important  benefits  tberefrum.  For 
a  while  Angier  was  the  law  oracle  of  the  Old 
Colony. 

The  following  anecdote  is  thought  to  be  worth 
preserving.  A  gentleman  called  on  Judge  Gush- 
ing— took  out  a  dollar  and  gave  him,  saying,  here 
is  a  dollar,  for  which  I  want  your  best  advice  ; 
and  then  stated  the  case.  The  case  was  intricate, 
and  had  a  variety  of  doubtful  points  in  it.  The 
attorney  felt  himself  much  embarrassed  in  decidin 
on  them  instanter  j  pausing  a  while,  he  looks  his 
client  in  the  face,  and  said,  there  are  several  points 
in  this  case  which  are  not  of  easy  solution  ;  I  think 
you  bad  better  apply  to  Angier.  The  client  an- 
swered, 'tis  fairly  done  ;  you  have  given  me  the 
best  advice  you  ever  gave  a  client. 

He  was  naiurally  a  small,  light  man,  and  when 
he  first  appeared  at  the  bar,  his  weigbt  was  only 
140  pounds  ;  but  he  became  plethoric,  and  his 
weight  increased  ten  pounds  a  year  for  ten  years, 
when  be  weighed  240  pounds.  As  his  age  ad- 
vanced, his  bodily  exercise  diminished,  and  his 
activity  gave  place  to  indisposition  ;  and  the  pow- 


o» 


341 


ei'S  of  mind  diminisbed  with  more  haste  than  those 
of  his  body,  until  they  were  nearly  extinct ;  and 
in  this  situation  his  days  terminated.  C. 


LEONARD. 

GEORGE  LEONARD  was  born  in  Norton, 
in  the  county  of  Bristol,  and  was  the  only  son  of  the 
Honourable  George  Leonard,  judge  of  probate 
for  said  county ;  he  graduated  at  Cambridge,  in 
the  year  1748 — went  through  the  necessary  legal 
studies,  and  was  admitted  at  the  bar,  and  com- 
menced practice  in  his  native  town. 

The  ample  fortune  to  which  he  was  born,  render- 
ed his  practice  rather  an  amusement^  than  an  occu- 
pation for  a  livelihood.  He  was  a  man  of  decent 
abilities,  and  his  acquirements  were  considerable. 
His  practice  was  pretty  much  limited  to  his  own 
county,  though  he  occasionally  attended  the  courts 
in  the  neighbouring  counties.  He  was  a  man  of 
strict  integrity,  a  mild  disposition,  and  a  sociable 
companion. 

He  could  not  boast  of  extensive  oratorical  powers, 
but  his  language  was  correct,  and  when  engaged 


342 

in  a  disputed  action,  he  did  his  cause  very  good 
justice.  Long  before  the  revolution  he  was  ap- 
pointed register  of  probate  for  that  county,  which 
office  he  sustained  until  he  was  appointed  judge  of 
probate.  He  was  honoured  by  a  seat  in  the  House 
of  Representatives,  and  also  in  the  Senate  of  the 
state  government ;  and  in  the  House  of  Represen- 
tatives of  the  national  legislature ;  he  also  held 
the  office  of  judge  of  the  court  of  common  pleas 
for  the  county  of  Bristol.  In  all  which  stations 
he  acquitted  himself  with  reputation.  He  had 
no  son,  and  but  one  daughter ;  she  was  married  to 
the  late  lieutenant  governor  Bowen  of  Rhode 
Island.  C 


HAMMOND. 


THOMAS  HAMMOND  was  the  second  sou 
of  Enoch  Hammond,  Esq. ;  he  was  born  in  Roch- 
ester, ou  the  17th  Sept.  1766.  His  mother  was 
the  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  West,  the  min- 
ister of  the  third  parish  in  Rochester,  and  sister 
of  the  late  Samuel  West,  D.  J),  pastor  of  the 
church  in  HoUis  street,  Boston,  and  of  the  Hon. 
Benjamin  West,  late  of  Charlestown,  N.  Hamp- 
shire. His  studies,  preparatory  for  the  college, 
were  under  the  direction  of  his  grand  father  West, 
and  he  entered  college  at  Cambridge  and  there 
graduated.  He  then  commenced  his  legal  studies 
under  the  tuition  of  his  uncle  at  Charlestown,  and 
there  finished  them.  Under  a  certificate  from  his 
instructor,  he  was  admitted  an  attorney  at  the 
Court  of  Common  Pleas  in  the  county  of  Bristol. 
He  was  an  excellent  classical  scholar  ;  he  was  a 
man  of  quick  apprehension,  sound  judgment,  and 
had  strong  powers  of  investigation  ;  his  mind  was 
well  stored  with  legal  ideas.  His  opportunities  in 
the  world  had  been  good,  and  he  had  not  failed  of 


344 

makiug  a  suitable  improvement  of  those  opportu- 
nities. His  acquaintance  had  the  most  flattering 
anticipations  that  he  would  be  an  ornament  to  the 
bar,  and  shine  there  with  unrivalled  lustre.  But 
his  first  appearance  at  the  bar  was  in  an  unpropi- 
tious  moment :  he  rose  to  read  a  writ — as  was  then 
the  custom — in  an  action  in  which  there  was  no 
defence ;  and,  strange  to  tell,  his  confidence  for- 
sook him  ;  he  could  not  proceed,  but  sat  down. — 
The  friendly  interference  of  the  members  of  the 
bar  was  insufficient  to  restore  his  confidence  ;  and 
after  sitting  a  short  time  he  rose  and  uttering  some 
inarticulate  sounds,  which  were  not  understood  ; 
the  defendant  was  defaulted. 

This  unfortunate  incident  was  a  dreadful  damp- 
er to  his  mind  ;  it  made  an  impression  thereon, 
which  philosophy  and  time  could  never  eradicate; 
and  though  he  was  never  after  put  to  such  a  non 
plus,  yet  his  embarrassments  were  such  that  they 
were  of  inconceivable  damage  to  him  ;  and  he  sel- 
dom, if  ever,  undertook  the  management  of  a  dis- 
puted cause  without  calling  to  his  aid  some  brother 
practitioner,  and  sometimes  those  of  legal  abilities 
vastly  inferior  to  his  own ;  and  it  was  not  unfre- 
quent,  that  at  the  trial  of  an  action  in  which  he  was 
engaged,  his  ill  state  of  health  would  not  admit  of 
his  attendance  in  the  court-house. 


345 

Iq  trials  before  referees  and  justices  of  the  peace 
he  appeared  to  very  good  advantage ;  but  in  those 
cases  he  generally,  if  not  always,  obtained  leave  to 
make  his  arguments  sitting  in  a  chair ;  as  when  he 
stood  up  he  appeared  to  be  out  of  his  proper 
element. 

He  was  settled  in  New  Bedford,  where — not- 
withstanding what  has  been  before  said — he  had  a 
very  good  run  of  practice  ;  his  legal  opinions  were 
entitled  to  great  confidence — and  generally  those 
who  intrusted  him  with  their  business  had  no  rea- 
son to  regret  the  confidence  they  reposed  in  him ; 
for  their  anticipations  were  generally  realized. 

He  was  not  so  cautious  as  to  lay  that  restraint 
on  his  tongue  as  those  who  were  more  prudent  did  ; 
but  without  any  ill  intention,  expressions  would 
sometimes  escape  him  which  propriety  could  not 
justify.  He  was  a  pleasant  companion,  not  very 
fond  of  exercise,  and  though  temperate  as  to  drink, 
was  a  great  devotee  to  high  living.  The  richness 
of  his  food,  and  his  want  of  proper  exercise,  is 
thought  to  have  brought  on  a  bodily  infirmity, 
which  terminated  in  his  death  before  he  arrived  at 
middle  age.  He  left  a  widow,  and  a  son  and 
daughter.  C. 


44 


WASHBURN. 


JAMES  WASHBURN  was  born  at  Middle- 
borough.  He  was  the  eldest  son  of  Capt.  Amos 
Washburn.  He  had  at  his  birth  what  is  called  a 
hair-lip;,  which  his  parents  caused  to  be  sewed  up, 
and  so  well  was  the  performance  done,  that  the 
circumstance  did  not  prove  to  be  of  any  disadvan- 
tage to  him. 

He  received  his  collegiate  education  at  Cam- 
bridge, and  commenced  his  legal  studies  under  the 
direction  of  Shearjashub  Bourne,  then  the  only 
practising  attorney  in  the  county  of  Barnstable,  in 
the  year  1790.  He  continued  his  studies  there 
about  a  year,  when  his  preceptor  was  chosen  a 
member  of  the  second  Congress  under  the  present 
Constitution.  He  then  left  Barnstable  and  return- 
ed to  his  father's,  in  Middleborough,  where  he 
resided — paid  some  attention  to  law  books,  and 
commenced  practice.  At  this  time  originating 
actions  in  the  Old  Colony  was  not  limited  to  the 
members  of  the  bar. 


347 

He  made  several  unsuccessful  attempts  to  be 
admitted  to  the  bar  ;  an  unhappy  dispute  between 
him  and  Judge  Padelford,  the  then  President  of 
the  Old  Colony  bar,  was  of  singular  disadvantage 
to  him.  In  the  year  1799,  when  the  Old  Colony 
bar  came  to  a  resolution  not  to  undertake  the  pro- 
secution of  any  action  which  was  not  originated 
by  some  member  of  the  bar,  he  discontinued  the 
originating  any  action,  and  soon  after  entered  the 
office  of  J.  D.  Dunbar,  as  a  student,  and  was  ad- 1 
mitted  to  the  bar  April  term,  1801.  Though  the 
office  in  which  he  finished  his  studies  was  but 
poorly  furnished  with  books,  his  attention  was 
closely  applyed  to  what  books  there  were  there, 
and  made  himself  complete  master  of  their  con- 
tents ;  and  so  strong  were  his  ruminating  powers, 
that  from  the  principles  he  then  had  possessed 
himself  of,  he  drew  conclusions  which  would 
apply  to  almost  all  cases  ;  and  at  his  first  appear- 
ance at  the  bar  he  was  capable  of  doing  his  client's 
cause  justice.  He  possessed  a  singular  fortitude 
of  mind ;  the  opposition  of  the  ablest  counsel  at 
the  bar,  or  even  the  frowns  of  the  court,  was  no 
damper  to  his  energies;  but  they  rather  served  to 
quicken  his  apprehension,  and  to  add  to  his  origi- 
nal fortitude  ;  and  like  the  palm  tree,  the  more 
weight  he  had  laid  on  him  the  faster  he  arose. 


348 

Washburn  was  a  man  whose  nerves  were  very 
accessible,  and  in  the  first  part  of  his  practice  he 
did  not  take  such  paius  to  conceal  his  resentment 
as  experience  suggested  the  propriety  of  after- 
wards. He  ever  had  an  high  sense  of  honour,  and 
could  not  easily  overlook  the  imputation  of  a  low  or 
mean  action.  At  the  bar  he  appeared  with  a  good 
grace ;  his  voice  was  smooth  and  clear,  his  articu- 
lation distinct ;  his  language  was  pure,  and  his 
gestures  were  graceful.  He  possessed  a  lively  and 
brilliant  imagination,  and  his  argumentative  pow- 
ers were  much  above  mediocrity  ;  his  sagacity  dis- 
covered the  pivot  on  which  his  cause  would  turn, 
and  his  ingenuity  pointed  out  to  him  every  advan- 
tage which  he  could  take. 

He  practiced  for  a  few  years  in  Middleborough, 
and  then  removed  to  New  Bedford.  He  con- 
stantly attended  the  courts  at  Plymouth,  Taunton, 
Barustable,  Dukes'  county  and  Nantucket ;  in  the 
two  last  mentioned  places  he  scarcely,  if  ever, 
failed  of  being  engaged  in  every  disputed  action. 
In  the  other  counties  he  had  a  full  proportion  of 
business. 

After  his  removal  to  New  Bedford,  he  made 
some  experiments  in  maritime  business.  This 
was  unfortunate  to  him  :  the  operation  of  the  re- 
strictive measures  of  the  general  government,  were 


349 

much  to  his  disadvantage ;  his  losses  were  very 
considerable,  and  the  proceeds  of  his  legal  busi- 
ness were  insufficient  to  keep  him  in  statu  quo.-— 
He  bore  those  losses  with  philosophic  fortitude ; 
and  he  passed  through  life  in  the  same  apparent 
tranquillity,  as  if  all  his  endeavours  had  been 
crowned  with  success ;  and  the  situation  of  his 
fiscal  affairs  were  unknown — though  not  unsus- 
pected— till  after  his  death. 

It  may  be  proper  here  to  observe,  that  it  is  the 
most  unwise  policy  for  a  practitioner  at  law  to  run 
into  any  speculation  distinct  from  his  professional 
business.  A  lawyer  will  always  find  that  the 
study  of  his  profession  is  sufficient  to  employ  all 
his  time  which  is  not  necessarily  devoted  to  relax- 
ation and  the  unbending  the  mind.  A  lawyer 
should  be  ever  ready  to  give  his  answer  to  his 
client  instanter,  that  he  may  not  be  delayed  or  dis- 
appointed. That  lawyer  who  attends  to  the  study 
of  his  profession,  keeps  his  office  open  early  and 
late,  and  is  there  in  proper  person,  will  never  suffer 
for  the  want  of  business,  if  he  is  faithful  to  his 
client.  A  watch-maker  or  a  ship-master  could 
not  reasonably  expect  any  great  benefit  from  neg- 
lecting their  proper  business,  and  undertaking  the 
discussion  of  law  points.  One  kind  of  business  is 
sufficient  for  one  man. 


350 

Washburn  represented  the  town  of  New  Bed- 
ford in  the  General  Court  a  number  of  years,  and 
was  there  a  useful  member.  He  took  an  active 
part  in  obtaining  the  act  establishing  a  law  term  of 
the  Supreme  Judicial  Court  in  and  for  the  coun- 
ties of  Plymouth,  Bristol  and  Barnstable. 

He  attended  the  Supreme  Court  at  Barnstable 
in  1815,  the  next  week  he  attended  at  Plymouth, 
and  the  week  after  at  Taunton.  At  the  last  place 
he  complained  of  severe  bodily  indisposition ;  he 
left  the  court  and  returned  towards  home  as  far  as 
Middleborough,  where  he  stopped  at  his  brother's, 
his  malady  increased  ;  medical  aid  was  called  in, 
but  the  obstinacy  of  his  disorder  was  not  to  be  con- 
trolled by  the  skill  and  applications  of  the  sons  of 
Esculapius.  He  lay  in  great  distress  about  three 
weeks,  when  the  organs  of  life  discontinued  their 
functions,  and  he  closed  his  eyes  in  death  ;  aged 
about  fifty  years. 


HODGE. 


IT  would  be  the  height  of  injustice  to  judge  of 
the  taste,  the  extent,  and  the  excellence  of  otir  lit- 
erature from  the  vs'orks  we  have  produced.  It  has 
been  unfashionable  to  write,  and  imprudent  to 
publish  in  this  country.  A  good  father — a  busi- 
ness-man, dreaded  to  see  in  his  son  a  propensity 
to  letters,  after  he  had  left  his  college  walls. 
From  such  a  disposition  he  would  draw  the  sad 
augery  of  want  of  success  in  life.  If  the  young 
man  was  intended  for  the  ministry,  the  pious 
parent  thought  that  gods  and  goddesses,  inspired 
fountains  and  Elysian  fields — those  creatures  of 
heathen  origin,  would  assuredly  diminish  his  zeal 
as  a  teacher  of  the  true  religion.  The  shrewd 
guesser  at  success  in  the  every  day  aflPairs  of  men, 
feared  that  refinement  in  classical  learning  would 
soften  the  courage  necessary  for  a  determined  adr 
vocate  at  the  bar.  All  this  was  probably  right. 
Society  was  not  old  enough  in  this  country  to  en- 
courage the  pursuiti  of  literature  to  any  considera- 


352 

ble  extent.  The  finest  fleeces  of  our  sheep — the 
best  crops  of  our  cotton  were  not  manufactured  at 
home.  We  could;  and  did,  import  our  broadcloths 
and  our  poetry  cheaper  than  we  could  make  these 
articles.  But  notwithstanding  this  course  was  wise 
and  prudent,  we  may  be  allowed  to  breathe  one 
sigh  of  regret  that  we  have  seen  some  men,  most 
happily  constituted  by  genius,  taste  and  ardour,  to 
emulate  the  first  writers  of  the  old  world,  rudely 
torn  from  the  pursuits  they  loved — from  the  em- 
braces of  the  Muses,  to  pass  away  a  life  in  uncon- 
genial labours. 

At  no  period  in  the  history  of  man,  has  the 
human  mind  been  more  actively  employed  than  in 
the  thirty-eight  years  which  have  elapsed  since  the 
peace  of  1783.  The^mechanical  inventions  which 
diminish  labour,  and  bring  comfort  and  luxury  to 
our  doors,  have  in  that  period  multiplied  among 
us  beyond  enumeration  ;  philosophy  has  been 
brought  from  heaven  to  earth  to  do  the  "  common 
chares"  of  life.  Letters  alone  have  been  neglect- 
ed, or  it  might  rather  be  said,  not  cherished.  We 
have  not  had  that  refreshing  leisure  which  is 
necessary  to  the  growth  of  elegant  literature.  We 
have  been  building  up  a  nation — and  have  been 
too  much  engaged  in  the  stone  and  mortar  of  our 
imperishable  institutions,  to  have  spent  much  time 


353 

in  delicate  finishings  and  tasteful  ornament.  To 
prove  that  we  are  capable  of  as  high  attainments 
in  literature,  as  in  the  weighty  matters  of  the 
sciences  and  the  arts,  we  have  only  to  look  around 
and  see  whom  we  now  have,  and  look  back  on 
those  we  once  possessed.  Among  those,  gifted 
with  every  talent,  and  every  grace  for  eminence  in 
literature,  was  the  subject  of  this  sketch  ;  but  he 
was  too  proud,  or  too  politic,  to  pursue  that  which 
did  not  receive  its  proper  meed  of  honour.  Public 
sentiment  and  patronage  only  can  make  poets  and 
historians. 

Hodge  died  on  the  6th  of  July,  1816,  and  at 
that  time  I  drew  a  short  outline  of  his  character, 
which,  as  it  was  then  warm  from  the  heart,  I  shall 
insert  in  preference  to  writing  another. 

^Michael  Hodge,  jun.  Esq.  who  died  last 
week  at  Plymouth,  a  native  of  this  town,  was  a 
man  of  genius  and  letters,  whose  acquirements 
were  extensive,  various  and  useful,  but  whose 
capacity  was  greater  than  his  attainments,  and 
whose  talents  were  more  conspicuous  than  his 
knowledge.  The  distinguishing  traits  of  his  mind 
were  quick  perception,  lucid  arrangement,  forcible 
illustration,  and  accurate  taste.  He  always  met 
a  subject  with  powers  to  manage  and  control  it  to 
his  wishes,  and  such  was  the   application  of  his 

45 


354 

taste,  that  its  roughness  was  made  smooth,  and  its 
harshness  done  away — and  what  was  effort  to 
others,  seemed  common  exertion  to  him.  The 
<^  •Mens  Dwinior^^  of  genius  lighted  his  track 
through  all  the  windings  of  ratiocination  to  satis- 
factory and  convincing  results.  His  was  not  the 
hammered  and  laboured  chain  of  reasoning,  formed 
of  ordinary  and  ponderous  metals,  but  a  string  of 
gems  of  inestimable  value  and  curious  polish. 
His  disposition  was  ardent,  his  feelings  always 
acute,  and  sometimes  fastidious  ;  and,  indeed,  his 
whole  temperament  was  too  sanguine  ever  to  know 
that  equability  that  mediocrity  so  frequently  enjoys. 
He  passed  through  his  college  and  professional 
studies  at  an  early  period  of  life,  and  began  the 
practice  of  the  law  with  high  reputation  and  good 
prospects,  and  was  soon  known  as  a  discriminating 
and  successful  advocate,  who  entered  with  ability 
and  zeal  into  his  client's  cause.  But  notwith- 
standing his  claims  to  superiority,  he  was  never 
perfectly  satisfied  with  the  profession  of  the  law  ; 
— for  in  his  character  was  exhibited  that  moral 
enigma,  which  has  so  often  perplexed  the  meta- 
physicians—  great  personal  intrepidity  united  to  a 
painful  and  shrinking  modesty  ; — a  feaifulness  of 
all  the  forms  of  danger,  to  a  diffidence  in  the  dis- 
charge uf  prufessioaal  duties. 


355 

The  constitution  of  Hodge  was  from  early  life 
rather  delicate,  and  after  a  few  years  of  profes- 
sional attention,  seemed  much  impaired.  Wealth 
and  fame,  sometimes  the  reward  of  honest  labours 
and  a  virtuous  ambition,  in  his  profession,  appeared 
at  too  great  a  distance,  or  too  doubtful  for  one 
constituted  like  him  ;  and  he  relinquished  the  law 
for  mercantile  and  maritime  pursuits.  But  after 
all  his  feelings,  ill  health  was  probably  at  the 
bottom  of  his  impatience,  and  the  real  and  only 
cause  of  his  leaving  the  profession  ;  for  a  few 
years  more  of  practice  might  have  taken  off  all 
that  was  irksome^  and  opened  to  him  such  views 
and  hopes  for  distinction,  as  to  have  made  his 
labour  and  duty  pleasant.  His  love  of  literature 
still  continued,  and  his  occasional  productions,  as 
essays,  orations  or  poetry,  (for  he  sometimes  sacri- 
ficed to  the  Muses)  were  always  in  the  first  class 
of  good  writings.  His  warmth  of  feeling,  his 
rich,  but  chastened  fancy,  his  critical  acumen^ 
and  analytical  powers,  gave  such  ductility  to  his 
thoughts,  and  such  harmony  and  sweetness  to  his 
language,  that  the  charm  which  attracts  and  de- 
tains you,  which  taste  delights  in,  and  the  under- 
standing approves,  which  is  found  in  the  pages  of 
Addison  and  Jones,  was  peculiarly  characteristic 
of  his  pen.     For  several  years  he  has   suffered 


356 

much  from  an  irritable  and  wasting  disease,  yet 
his  spirits  remained  unconquerable,  and  his  energy 
undiminished  ; — he  persevered  in  activity  until 
action  with  him  was  over  forever. 

So  much,  and  such  varied  talent,  delicacy  of 
taste,  such  unwearied  and  vigorous  habits  of  busi- 
ness, such  sensitive  and  admirable  tact  for  every 
thing  he  engaged  in,  and  such  heroic  and  high- 
tempered  daring,  such  hardihood  in  suffering,  as 
was  combined  in  the  character  of  Hodge,  is  rarely 
found  united  in  any  one. 

Such  a  man,  so  full  of  soul,  enterprise  and  la- 
bour, to  have  lasted  long,  must  have  had  an  iron 
frame — but  his  was  not  commonly  robust,  and  he 
is  gone,  at  the  premature  age  of  thirty-six.' 

Before  he  relinquished  his  professional  pursuits, 
and  when  he  knew  the  old  world  only  through  the 
medium  of  books,  he  often  made  comparisons  unfa- 
vourable to  his  own  country.  He  saw  European 
society  through  the  medium  of  a  few  great  men,  and 
formed  his  opinion  of  their  knowledge  by  reading 
their  standard  authors ;  distance  also  ''  lent  en- 
chantment to  the  view."  How  wise  must  that 
bench  of  justice  be'where  Mansfield  presided  ?  and 
how  eloquent  and  patriotic  that  senate  where  Burke 
and  Fox  harangued  ?  How  charming  was  that 
social  circle  in  which  Voltaire  was  crowned?  and 


357 

how  lovely  the  muse  that  inspired  Klopstock  and 
Gresner  ?  This  is  the  common  language  of  youthful 
genius  enamoured  with  what  is  great  or  elevated  ia 
the  intellectual  world.      But  after  ten  years    ac- 
quaintance with  the  south  and  norths  and  in  fact, 
with   most   parts  of  Europe,  he   became  satisfied 
with  the  land  of  his  birth.     His  was  not  a  superfi- 
cial knowledge  of  those  things  which  make  up  na- 
tional character  and  dignity,  but  being  well  quali- 
fied to  judge,  and  bringing  a  mind  rather  preju- 
diced in  favour  of  European  nations,   he  weighed 
well  the  subject  of  their  advantages  and  never  after- 
wards repeated  the  wish  that  he  had  been  born  in 
some  other  country  than  America.     He  examined 
their  courts  of  judicature,  and  was  satisfied  that  if 
we  had  something  yet  to  learn,  that  we  had  avoid- 
ed much  which  it  was  better  not  to  know.     If  at 
home  he  had  sometimes  seen  ignorant  and  feeble 
men  raised  by  the  suffrages  of  the  populace  to 
offices  they  did  not  deserve,  abroad  he  had  fre- 
quently   witnessed    the  elevation   of  corrupt  and 
ambitious  minions  of  power.    Here  there  is  no  royal 
hand  stretched  forth  to  feed  the  young  eagle,  to 
give  him  strength  and  courage  to  reach  ^^his  pride 
of  place,"  but  there  is  no  aristocratic  power  to  strike 
to  the  earth  the  young  aspirant  for  fame.     If  we 
have  but  little  of  that  lofty  cultivation  which  pro- 


358 

duces  and  cherishes  the  great  masters  in  poetry, 
painting,  sculpture,  aud  the  philosophy  of  the  mind, 
yet  we  can  say  that  the  light  of  our  knowledge 
gleams  on  the  humblest  residences  of  man,  and  is 
sufficient  to  learn  him  his  duty  to  himself  and  his 
neighbour.  If  a  few  of  our  high-gifted  citizens 
have  gone  across  the  Atlantic  for  that  patronage 
and  support  which  could  not  be  found  here,  myri- 
ads of  European  subjects,  oppressed  by  landlords, 
avaricious  tax-gatherers,  and  arbitrary  governments 
at  home,  have  emigrated  to  us  aud  found  comfort 
and  freedom  here,  and  grown  rich  and  prosperous 
on  our  soil.  We  do  not  deny  the  fact,  that  some 
of  the  nations  of  Europe  have  permanent  orders  of 
men,  hereditary  opulence,  and  all  the  means  and 
much  of  the  disposition  to  accumulate  knowledge 
and  to  dispense  a  generous  patronage  to  those  who 
labour  for  intellectual  glory.  England,  in  particu- 
lar, who  has  stretched  her  power  through  every 
clime,  has  equally  extended  her  patronage.  It 
would  be  idle  to  deny  that  by  her  fostering  hand, 
genius  is  more  certainly  developed,  and  its  exer- 
tions better  secured  than  with  us.  This  is  but  part 
of  the  question  ;  there  are  other  views  of  it  of  supe- 
rior importance.  Is  there  a  nation  on  earth  that 
enjoys  the  necessaries  of  life,  its  conveniences  and 
comforts  in  the  full  measure  that  we  do  ?  Where 


359 

can  be  found  so  much  civil,  political,  and  religious 
liberty  as  we  possess?  If  our  literary  and  scientific 
information  is  not  so  concentrated  and  pre-eminent 
as  theirs,  and  if  we  cannot  number  so  many  beacoa 
lights  on  our  intellectual  heights ;  yet  we  can  say, 
without  the  hazard  of  dispute,  that  there  is  a  more 
general  diffusion  of  elementary  information  among 
us  than  in  any  other  country.  We  have  no  starv- 
ing rabble  such  as  is  found  in  every  city  in  Europe, 
which  constantly  disturbs  their  peace,  and  fre- 
quently threatens  the  destruction  of  civil  govern* 
ment. 

But  after  all  the  comments  on  both  sides,  per- 
haps there  can  be  no  staudard  to  judge  of  the  amount 
of  happiness  enjoyed  by  any  people.     The  bless- 
ings of  nature  and  providence   are  more  equally 
apportioned,  than  we  imagine  them  to  be.     Some 
place  the  value  of  life  in  one  thing— some  in  an- 
other.    Who  knows  enough  of  human  nature,  to 
say  that  the  Arab— the  poetical  wanderer  of  the 
deserts,  who  beguiles  the  night  hy  tales  of  wonder, 
and  revels  in  the  magic  creation  which   his  own 
prolific  fancy  has  spoke  into  existence,  is  not  as 
happy  as  the  peasant  of  the  hills  of  Switzerland, 
who  never  left  the  cliffs  on  which  he  was   born? 
Some  nations  may  rust  out  in  peace,  or  waste  their 
strength  in  pageantry  and  the  refinements  of  indo- 


360 

lence  and  pride — while  others  are  brokeu  down 
by  exhausting  wars — who  shall  say  which  is  the 
happiest  of  the  two  ?  Different  dispositions  would 
frame  a  different  answer.  One  thing  is  certain, 
at  all  times — that  pitiful  insults  will  always  pro- 
duce bitter  recriminations,  and  that  prejudice  has 
her  long  train  of  ills  between  nations,  as  well  as 
individuals.  A  literary  contest  on  a  national  scale 
is  worse  than  one  of  arms,  for  it  is  likely  to  last 
longer,  and  to  do  more  mischief.  These  animosi- 
ties arise  from  self-importance,  and  narrow  views 
of  great  principles,  and  they  grow  warmer  and 
more  hateful  as  they  continue,  while  the  strife  of 
battle  begets  generous  sentiments  ;  and  the  adver- 
sary who  bravely  falls,  is  often  sincerely  lamented. 
Our  prayer  is  for  a  millenium  in  the  literary  world. 
Philosophy  teaches  the  creed,  and  Christianity 
sanctions  it — that  one  nation  has  but  little  superi- 
ority over  another — that  all  the  children  of  men 
are  sons  and  daughters  of  God,  and  the  peculiar 
care  of  Heaven. 


END  OF  VOLUME  I. 


/Y«we^e    pi^hh'sA-^(d 


DUE  DATE 

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